dream / inspire / do

Welcome to the first post of a new regular series on nature // street

 dream / inspire / do 

enchanting visual stories celebrating all things nature, simplicity and play

First up is my most favourite of day-dreams, mountain escapes...

***

Let's run away together,

Away from the city lights,

Where no-one knows our names yet,

And we'll camp out in the open,

Warming cold skin by the fire,

Tell each other hopes and dreams,

And all of our desires,

We'll own nothing more than we need,

Watch sunrises colour the sky...

~ e.h.

autumn adventures

"It seems to me that the natural world is the greatest source of excitement; the greatest source of visual beauty; the greatest source of intellectual interest. It is the greatest source of so much in life that makes life worth living".

David Attenborough, aka The Man

There's something about the change in seasons that resonates with me on a fundamental level: it starts with a deep craving for the change, and follows with excitement and semi-ritualistic basking as the new season announces it's settling in. 

I find the change always brings a kind of a contagious thrill; an invigoration of senses, the welcome return of a suite of simple pleasures, and a promise of new adventures.  

The weekend past delivered on all of the above - heralding our first cool, wet weekend of Autumn after a summer of extreme heat. Those few days, although somewhat burdened by fatigue and responsibilities, were full of small celebrations brought about by the much-awaited physical arrival of the new season.

Friday night brought us a crisp clear night with the neighbourhood's first wood fires tantalizingly drifting smoke on the wind. Ordinarily the kids would go to bed after a later dinner but instead we excitedly donned trackies and jumpers to explore the garden after a few days absence. The kids seemed to pick up on the changes in the air, eagerly investigating the vegie patch, bouncing on the trampoline, and finally lying back on the lawn to yell goodnight to the moon and single star in the emerging night sky.

word up

default mode: hustle

"once she stopped rushing through life, she was amazed how 

much more life she had time for"

                                                                                                              Unknown

The summer past was definitely a game changer. It marked the end of a year distinguished by rolling sets of challenges: where I'd give my all to reach the crest, snatch a glimpse of the horizon, and have the next set on top of me again. Keep going, keep going, push through I'd think. You're resilient, you work best on adrenalin, you can run on a staple diet of double-shot flat whites and no sleep [btw: you've got no choice here anyway!]. 

Of course it wasn't sustainable. During a few weeks off over the summer holidays I realised I was burnt out. I felt tired and old beyond my years, unfulfilled in spite of all the great things in my life, and unsure of how to properly relax in the limited windows of time I'd get to do so. 

As I was processing this burnout, I experienced a moment that crystalised how much I was caught in the pace of modern living. It was down at our local beach one day: my dad, daughter and I had been kayaking as part of my effort to start to slow down and get active outdoors again. 

As we prepared to make our way home, I was given responsibility for looking after the kayaks and our belongings while Dad went to collect the car.

nature // street vision

"Optimistic design is about daring to be different, about breaking the mould of mainstream design"

Amanda Talbot, author of rethink:the way you live

Today's nature // street vision celebrates the optimism and individuality of vertical gardens: creative, upbeat vistas in the modern urban landscape. 

  

RIP Rover

Hurrah! It's been another slow Saturday to soothe the soul.

It's been a hectic week again, characterised by changes in the air, a toddler with a recurrent bout of bronchiolitis (requiring mid-week grommet surgery to be postponed), and ultra busy days at work. By the end of this week, and with only one full night's sleep in three weeks, I'm run down and trying to stave of a head cold. 

Thankfully this morning saw the dawn of a long weekend here, and I was granted a rare sleep in with the toddler - who had attempted to rise at 4.30 a.m. but eventually surrendered to come and snuggle in bed for a few more hours.

Despite initial plans to head in to the city to enjoy all Adelaide has to offer in the month of Mad March, we ended up spending a quiet day outdoors at home. The kids helped their Dad with home improvements, and me with the gardening.

Today's gardening was all about vegie patch maintenance. We've had a crazy run of weather over the past summer including a spate of heatwaves of over 40 degrees. In addition to warping trainlines and inducing mental meltdowns, the heat's left the vegie patch having to fend for itself and looking worse for wear at the end of the season. 

I again enlisted my two trusty little helpers and we set about to water, clear dead bean stalks from the teepees, trim and re-stake the tomatoes, and give the compost some TLC. Some of our discoveries included eggplants hiding behind luscious leaves, self-seeded cos lettuce germinating, and lots of bugs doing-their-thing in the compost, showing us some rich soil forming much to the kids' equal disgust and delight. 

word // up

lessons from the Faraway Tree

"Going back to a simpler life is not a step backwards."

Yvon Chouinard

For me simplicity is personified in the almost-nightly routine my daughter and I have of climbing up into her bunk and getting lost in a story book. I'm often exhausted by this time and craving some time to myself, but as long as its not too late I'll make sure we read together. We have a deal: I read her two chapters of the current book, and together we slip away on an adventure. 

We are currently [re]discovering the Magic Faraway Tree series by Enid Blyton, which was recently re-released as a series of beautiful [and politically correct!] keepsake books .

As a child, I distinctly recall submerging myself in the enchanting stories of the Magic Faraway Tree. And now, like my own mum before me - and her mum before that - I see my child fall under the same spell: my daughter's eyes light up, her imagination fires away, and our story time always concludes with a plea for 'just one more chapter, one more!'.

As an adult, reliving Blyton's books through older eyes, what I also really appreciate is her classic story telling in the context of modern living. Her framing of play, adventure and discovery in nature is so refreshing to me living in a fast-paced, time poor world where we hold so many fears of kids roaming free. She writes: 

nature // street vision

"Nature in our urban landscape and homes is critical for connecting half the world's people with the natural environment. The experience and contact the majority of the world has with nature is more likely to occur in the city or home rather than a rural setting. The more urban our lifestyle, the bigger the need for a connection with nature" 

                                                                                 Amanda Talbot, author of rethink:the way you live

Today's nature // street vision is for roof top gardening to be the norm in modern urban living. Let's foster the creation of urban jungles in all shapes and form!   

   

   

   

   

sources (l-r, top to bottom): unknown (via Pinterest), The Permaculture Research Institute, 

Spitsoskylo, A Paper Aeroplane,  LD5, JaminPaul, unknown (via Pinterest), Nubby Twiglet