I awake to the chirping conversations of a million birds who in their own ways discover the frantic nature of their lives with so much information to be delivered so early in the early morning.
Their cacophony is splintered by the screech of the black cockatoos who swoop across my landscape dominating the avian conversation with their raucous cries. These majestic birds, a left over from pre-historic times, their oddly shaped bodies with the flash of yellowy gold never cease to grab my attention when they arrive in flocks of a half dozen or so.
But my immediate attention is drawn to the movement around me. In my garden amongst the ferns there is always activity. A lady beetle wanders along a frond only to be snared in the net of a bug catcher. These little men with their unique nets pounce on the lady beetles and carry them off to do no more than watch and observe them.
The bug catcher looks at me, knows I too live here and nods begrudgingly towards me as he scurries off his catch slung over his shoulder.
My attention is drawn to the tree fern above me, now grown to almost three metres. I am pleased it has taken to being in my garden. I remember rescuing it from the prospect of oblivion when it was a single frond, poorly looked after and about to be scrapped.
Within weeks of its arrival I watched it prosper and it has grown into a commanding and proud feature of my garden.
Along with the fact that it has attracted a family of tree fern dwellers, a fairy people who take care of the ferns, who nurture the plants, feed them a secret potion to prompt their growth. These dwellers are minute people who dwell happily among the fronds of the tree and who on the arrival of a new frond celebrate long and hard. The tree fern excretes a substance the dwellers ferment and drink on these occasions and I have laughed long at the sight of many of them lying about in the early morning in a sore and sorry state following a night of celebration. I have come to understand that each new frond means life and prosperity for the family, they mark the old ones for removal and I comply by removing them thus allowing the new fronds to grow and provide what the dwellers require.
Beside the tree fern is a large birds nest fern, now a good metre in diameter, it has a sister fern in the corner of my garden and it prospers as well.
Today I looked and there were ten new fronds opening, the magic of nature never ceases to surprise and amaze me. A sleepy lizard lives in there, he has domain over his area, no other legged beasts enter his place, he always looks at me with curiosity as if wondering about the miserable existence he sees I live in comparison to his own. I like him in the garden as he ensures the snails keep away lest they become his next meal. Today he looking quite plump so last night he must have had a good meal somewhere in the garden.
The maiden hairs I have spoken of before, their community thrives though there is a touch of sadness as one of their kind has died recently and so has become a ghost town, despite all my efforts to keep it alive.
But nothing lives forever and we all know that. We all live in harmony, I marvel at the life that exists, the ones I have mentioned, the family of skinks whose leader sunbakes each afternoon on a log beside the ferns,
his myriad of children many of whom don’t survive as there are marauders who infiltrate the garden at different times such as snakes who come to feed and leave usually unnoticed.
My garden is a magic place. It is only through patience and time that I have discovered the life that exists in this place. I love the early morning; I love lying in the midst of all this life knowing I am accepted by the life forms who inhabit this place. As I awake each morning I am reminded of the magnitude of my world and of the responsibility I have to maintain the ecological harmony I have created.
Right now I am eye to eye with a family of Gredilts. Quaint fairy people who drop by occasionally, they never say anything; rather they stand in a row in front of my eye, grinning broadly. Today it’s the parents and a new little one I assume they have to show me as they hold up the baby close to my eye. I grin back careful not to breath too big as my breath can knock them off their feet. The mother settles the baby back into her arms and they give a little wave as they disappear back into the garden.
As I say, it’s magic place.