How close can you come with nature?

This is an encounter that took place in a park, but it’s very typical to have very close friendly encounters with wildlife in this country. It’s also possible to have extremely unfriendly encounters, such as those with sharks, crocs and venomous snakes, but I’ve already talked about our scary encounter with a brown snake in a river in the Northern Territory... So the encounter with a koala taking a stroll, relaxing, posing, or just interacting with us happened in the Koala Conservation Centre in Phillip Island. The walkway literally takes visitors through the gum trees in which live the koalas. I believe the animals are almost domesticated, because with so many visitors, they just climb down onto the suspended walkway. I do not have a picture for another friendly encounter, but while walking on a street in Sydney, very close to the centre, a crimson rosella landed on my head. It didn’t peck or anything, but I am sure it was a bird used to getting food from people, so just tried to see what it could get from me. I almost felt guilty for not stocking up on food for it, but I had nothing to offer, so the rosella flew off afterwards… Kangaroos and wallabies often lie down or graze close to the walkways of national parks and as long as you don’t approach them, they continue their activities while keeping an eye on you. This richness and the closeness with wildlife are unique to Australia and deeply touch my heart.

Another Personal Post (The Poetry of Moving)

So how does it feel to change countries? Not once, but twice. Does it matter what countries? A lot. Changing countries is like going through an earthquake so strong, it remodels the landscape, it shakes your deepest nerves, and the aftershocks of all kinds stay with you for a very long time. When I say remodeling the landscape I’m thinking of ten kinds of parrots eating birdseed every day in front of your window. I am also thinking of the week-ends when you lay down on a gorgeous beach where only a few other people and kangaroos visit. The hurricane that became a cyclone, the spelling of mom that changed to mum. How the move shakes your deepest nerves is by emailing every day the friends and family left behind, far, far away, just to maintain an illusory closeness, by driving on the wrong side of the street and through roundabouts, and by relearning the school system, the healthcare system and internet access. Aftershocks? They are the moments you go visit the other countries and meet a much older mother than only two years ago, or the moments you visit another country and feel like you never left those places because even when you are far, far away, you’re still reliving them in your mind almost every day. But the wind blows in your life and you get carried away like the fluff of a dandelion, you change countries again because you are curious to live there, or you got a better job, or you just cannot stop changing countries anymore… You plant a passion fruit, a hydrangea, a grevillea, and a lily-of-the-valley, and as much as you love them, they are the only things related to you that grow roots. Together with the new friends that you made and you cannot take with you if you move again…

Melbourne Cup

Melbournians call it “the race that stops a nation,” and the definition is very close to the truth. I have a day off, so I do no work whereas the horses do it all. The first Tuesday in November, every year since 1861, is the biggest sporting, social and cultural event in Australia, the Melbourne Cup. The event revolves around the horse races, but it has a social side, a fashion-loaded aura and a typical Aussie flavor. People celebrate summer, have a picnic, and again, they relax… Not to forget the betting and the drinking. Phew… I recommend you never look at the after-race pictures, because so many people waste themselves and trash the Flemington grounds that photographers capture this after show with dark enthusiasm. The things I like about this event are to watch the hats and fascinators and the big race. I also appreciate the beauty of the venue, Flemington Racecourse in Melbourne, and its British elegance, especially because the track is a superb green lawn, not a dirt track like in Santa Anita, California (the only other horse race I have ever watched). I attached a picture of a different kind of horse, which will calmly continue to graze today and sweetly posed for me somewhere in the Yarra Valley.