There Is Always Light

It is raining here again & I love the sound of it. It is so peaceful & makes the whole house so dim & smoky but not pitch black, just a comfortable dark. Like being underwater in the Murray River. If you look up, there is always light.
 
 I think about Harry in his grave, the small streams of water sliding over the freshly turned earth. A glistening makeshift headstone.
 
 My niece & nephew came to pay respects last night. Maximus says,
   ‘I’m sorry you died Harry’ as he bends down, rubbing the stone that marks his grave.
 My sister says to Bella,
   ‘At least he’s not in pain now & he can sleep.’
 Bella stops in her tracks, puts her hands on her hips, looks up at her Mum & says,
   ‘He’s not sleeping! He’s dead!’
 
 She is so right & the statement made me smile at her 5 year old wisdom. What a mind that kid is going to have. I am so proud.

Cycle

I cannot explain my close attachment to the Blue Tongued Lizard that has lived in our garden for 3 years but he is important to me nonetheless. I found him today bent over in the garden, looking not-quite-right. It is only 10 degrees here today & far too cold for a lizard to be trying to sunbake. I noticed he has been coming out to bake for a few weeks now, in winter, & thought it odd. I picked him up & gave him a bit of a rub to warm him up, his belly stirred but his eyes did not open. It did not feel right to leave him lying out there to get picked off by a cat or a bird, so I picked him up & took him inside. I made him a makeshift home in my nephew’s toy box with some rocks & dirt from outside & put on a strong lamp to help warm him up a bit.
 
He did stir some more once he warmed up a little. I added a lid of water & some cherry tomatoes which were always a treat for the lizards that Leo raised when we were growing up. He has not touched either one. I spoke to Leo who said to drip some water in his mouth, if he was thirsty he would react – which he did.
 
He keeps doing these deep sighs from inside, curling up a little & then he flattens himself a bit to get more warmth. The sighs hit me in the chest every time, like a series of last breaths. I hold my own breath each time, I am quiet & hopeful that he will keep going.
 
I wish there was more I could do.
 
He has not moved for an hour now & I am too afraid to put my hands in, in case he has died. I am going to wait for Leo to get here & take a look at him. I do not think the news will be good.
 
Corsmor & I live in a little wilderness haven here & enjoy watching all the wild creatures come & go as they please. They are remarkable & motivating. Life is inexplicably going on around us. I have watched Sparrows swarm over the bread crumbs Corsmor throws to them, Black Birds couple up, build nests & eggs hatch into the quickest growing babies I have ever seen. I have awoken to the sounds of Kookaburra’s singing in our Jacaranda tree & fallen asleep to the sound of frogs in our back yard pond. What I failed to realise is that death is going on all around us at the same time. It is taking those beautiful things away from us. A cycle I had never really thought about.  & here I am sitting next to it, with a glimmer of hope & hopelessness all at once. There is nothing I can do but wait.