When I was younger I used to watch flocks of Galah’s descend on ovals and proceed to tear up the grass. The birds would rip up the grass in pursuit of the succulent shoots and rootS hidden just under the thatch. Eventually they would raise up in a raucous blanket of pink and grey, leaving a matted deadest behind. Sadly this galah lost its flock and never found an oval.
Some days the world rushes by and we get caught up in a maelstrom of moments, ever turning and spinning. Without a chance to rest we lose sight of what is important and become increasingly disconnected from our lives and our loved ones.
Take off your shoes, grab a stick and some string, and walk away from the whirling storm of the daily grind and go find a river to fish in. You don’t need a hook, nor bait: just drop a line in and take some time out to listen to the steady beat of your body.
The Bluebird of Happiness had seem better times, it used to have reasons to keep trim and happy. “Used to”,being the operative word, well until people discovered Twitter, Facebook and all the other social media ills plaguing people’s lives. No longer was happiness real, tangible unless it was tweeted, posted and liked by people with virtual lives.
So the Bluebird now sits alone and bereft, sipping on coffee and eating ever increasing amounts of chocolate.
The Easter Bunny was feeling rather annoyed as his original purpose had been subverted by chocolate eggs and product placement. No longer did he represent fertility or act as a religious symbol: instead the he heralded the coming of commercialism for the year.
“Thank god, or the commercial equivalent,” he muttered to himself, “that there is coffee.”
With that utterance he poured himself a macchiato and allowed himself a minor taste of heaven (or commercial equivalent).