Don't know about you but I'm exhausted. Seems it's been one thing after another for at least six years.

Subscribe now for unlimited access.

Login or signup to continue reading

Black Summer fires, COVID, Ukraine, inflation, October 7, Gaza, housing, cost of living, Trump, tariffs, Iran, Trump again, inflation again and oil crisis.

Musing on this on the deck overlooking the sea as it turned pink in the sunset, I heard a familiar, reassuring sound. It was the call of the currawong, a bird I always associate with winter. Listening to its melody echoing across the neighbourhood I felt a loosening in the neck. An involuntary "aah" escaped my lips and for a few glorious minutes I was freed from the grip of the news cycle.

The currawong reminded me not only that winter was coming but that sitting and listening to nature is a balm in troubled times. And the bird's curative effect on my psyche piqued my curiosity. It turns out I'm not alone in finding comfort in that call.

The Wiradjuri people of central western NSW say the currawong sings in the rain and announces the onset of colder weather. Another Indigenous belief is that the bird's song is the voice of ancestors, offering spiritual guidance. The currawong is also thought to bring wisdom, good fortune and protection.

On those crisp winter mornings they visit, their yellow eyes bright with curiosity, intelligence and expectation, the currawongs are also a source of entertainment. It feels like a privilege to have them check in, scope the scene, hope down to snatch the stray piece of dog kibble, then fly off again, their calls trailing as they go.

It's reassuring in the midst of all the world's uncertainty to know that nature at least........

© The Examiner