Sitting on the shoreline, hearing the waves continue to crash over the rocks I sit and watch the swallows dance across the night sky. Lit by a full moon with only remnants of cloud the sky is mostly clear and my eyes follow the five swallows as they dart around, I am amazed they never fly in to each other as their movements seem so fast and free.

There in a sky full of stars, I feel a comforting breeze and I am completely captivated by the five swallows in the light, flashing streaks of silver, black and white. I send them my wishes and hope they take them to those I can’t see anymore.

This woman walks her own path. She is the protector of her family and the healer of many. Her travels take her to many parts of the country where she brings a sense of calm with her caring nature. Whilst she continues to care and nourish others on her journey she is replenished by the Ocean.

Many hours are spent in the Ocean being cleansed, vulnerable to the waves and currents. This is her freedom, her spiritual home. She is of the sea and takes it into her heart. No matter how far she journeys, it always calls her back.

Sing to me little bird, tell me what I need to know. I look for you always and listen to your song, with a familiar and cheeky way, your wagging tail catches my eye and a smile rises to my grateful eyes - I see you and I hear you.

My heart is woven together, just like the stitches in my weave, all the black,

white and grey and the shades in between. I have many layers as a woman, a mother, a wife and friend and everything is connected from my hand to my heart. The little wily wagtall the messenger bird, a constant reminder that there are two sides of the story to be told, threads woven together by those telling the tale.

I listen intently to those messages and I must unravel the weave and decide which thread to stitch into my life and which threads to discard, and so I stitch new layers and I continue to grow, weaving my own story.

The earth is dry and warm bare feet step gently on the ground. Footprints appear in the red dust as we make our way across the desert. We feel the connection, we take the energy up from the ground and inhale the dry clean air. Our eyes are settled on the path in front, the track has been there for so many years, well worn and familiar, it is a comfort. The Country shows her different colours in the sand. Shades of reds, pinks and brown, and a gentle orange glow from where the sun shines low. Out here in the tracks you can almost hear the desert heart beat in time with your own. Time almost stands still out here, but gently we move forward.

Sitting gently on the ocean floor the little test remains, the spikes of the sea urchin have fallen off and been swept away by the currents. The soft purple colours, are captivating as the sea urchin is washed ashore, a new treasure to gather and admire.

Stand at my side, have my back, watch out for me. Be my protector from harm.

Help me stay safe and quide my journey as I step out on my own. Keep me close as I will always need to return to you.

Swirling salt water above, gentle sway below.

The Ocean is full of beauty and its floor abundant in natures treasure. Shells that were once homes sit gently on the sand, amongst the anemones, whose tentacles appear like sea blooms; Corals in all different shapes and sizes are surrounded by intricately detailed shells.

The dancing weeds give glimpses of beautiful coral in such soft colours that seem to pop alongside the many green grasses.

Wherever life’s journey takes us, we are often called back to the sea, to be cleansed by the waves and to remind ourselves of the beauty that exists below the surface. Perhaps its natures reminder to look deeper and reflect that to coexist with so many different things is strength and gentleness all at once.

Under a blazing hot sun the ground is baked. Shades of orange filter through the gums as it is late in the day. It’s a wonder that anything grows out in the desert. The intense heat a reminder that we are all vulnerable to the elements.

Yet, as the season changes the velvety blooms of the Desert Pea sprawl amongst the now brittle bushes, seemingly heading in all directions. A carpet of delicate and vibrant flowers draw you in.

Their deep red petals and black centres are awash with orange of a fading winter sun, and the dust of a desert breeze.