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The sea is sighing this morning.  Its murmur is the continuo that cradles the voices of my sangha-souls:

– brisk yap of startled dog

– honk of ibis, strutting on stilts

– warble of magpies’ morning choir practice

– chatter of pink galas, busy on newly-greened grass

– laughter of lorikeets taking breakfast in the scarlet bottlebrush

– and beachside, the cackle of kookaburras hunting crabs.

Pink and white oleanders show off under the big gums and a huge sulphur-crested cockatoo paints a streak of white as it swoops across the park, suddenly silencing the sangha with its raucous shriek.  They listen; a second passes.  Then they all strike up again.

On my shady balcony, tubs of color:  impatiens, caladiums, violets, maidenhair ferns.  And, oh delight!  A shiny green sleepy-eyed frog has taken up residence in the water reservoir under the ferns!

I live alone and am often asked whether I feel lonely.  Where, I wonder, on this magical and miraculous Earth could loneliness be found?

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~ miriam louisa
echoes from emptiness

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