Inspired

The landscape is speaking to me at the moment.  Midwinter and it is so changeable!
Last night driving home from mum and dads as the sun went down behind the mountain.  Orange/red clouds behind the mountain, purple smudges of lower clouds and the sky so very blue behind it.  The mountains around here are so much a part of my sense of place in the world.  The only time I haven't been able to look out my windows and see mountains is when I lived overseas and I felt it at a very subconscious level.  Mount Wellington is an anchor of sorts, orientating me in the countryside, even when I am at home - a few valleys away and out of sight of it.  It is also a reminder of one of my best friends, Kestrel.  Last year when I kicked out x and needed someone to catch me, Kestrel did.  I landed in her home and soaked up the chaos and family and love there and it calmed my soul and helped smooth the way for me.  Not long after life took Kestrel and her family to another state entirely but watching the mountain and its many moods never fails to remind me of the cups of tea in her kitchen, nestled at the foot of it.
Now that we have moved back to the Huon Valley where I grew up it is the Hartz and Sleeping Beauty that I see most often.  The Hartz peeks up over the hills down river and gives an indication of the weather.  Many times I have watched the rain work its way from the Hartz and up the opposite side of the river.  Most often staying there.  There hasn't been much snow on it this year but on a crisp clear morning you can often see its white cap against the brilliant blue sky...
Sleeping Beauty dominates the landscape as you leave the Huon and was the feature of many fairy tales in my head as I grew up.  Her face can be shrouded in cloud, dusted with snow or just lying there, perfectly serene under a crystal clear sky.  She can be camoflagued against a dark grey cloud or disappear completely.  I occupied myself on many drives to town imagining different stories for her and I still catch myself doing it now.


The other thing that anchors me in the landscape is the prescence of water.  Another thing that has been a constant throughout my life has been a river near by, either the Huon or the Derwent.  The Derwent bringing a cool sea breeze on hot summer days, just when the heat becomes unbearable.  Watching the rain come across the Derwent, lightening on the opposite hills, dolphins and seals and once a labrador!  It is still a source of joy when we visit mum and dad and go down to throw rocks in the water, collect shells and smooth bits of glass, or in summer wait til the sun goes down a bit and go for a swim.
The Huon is the river of my childhood and present.  Each morning I can look out my kitchen window and see a hint of what the day might bring.  Fog often sits on the river til late in the day and sometimes around the house too.  On the days when there are just wisps of fog on the river and a frost on the lawn I know the day will be crisp and clear and beautiful.  I know as we drive into Huonville we are likely to see the river smooth as glass on days like that.  At the moment it is full, flooding some of the low lying paddocks on its banks.  It looks slow and langorous but looks are deceptive.  Underneath it is deep and the current strong.  There is a tree in the river about half way to Huonville and it has been stuck there for a couple of months now, not moving.  I find it amazing - to have not moved it must be a fairly large tree and all you can see sticking up is a single, thick branch.  Still waters do indeed run deep!