We're already more than half way through January - time is flicking past like one of those calendars on old movies. I suppose it makes sense - when we are ten, a single year is a tenth of our life so is quite a large percentage. At 61, a year is less than a tiny 60th of my life so seems so much smaller than when I was young. I'm enjoying this age - I couldn't handle the stress of teenage years again, or the pressure of feeling judged by others in later decades... now, I just enjoy each day and measure myself against myself, not against others.
We've had some rain - no floods or even enough to make the creek run, but atleast we have green grass at the moment. The birds have returned to our garden and we have dozens of double-bar finches, top-knot pigeons, bronzewing pigeons, diamond wing doves, rainbow lorikeets, scaly breasted lorikeets, and other flocks in our trees. There is also a pair of Sacred Kingfishers nesting in a tree near our main shed - they drill a hole into the dried mud of a white-ant nest up in a tree. At nights, I've heard the Powerful Owls - they are big enough to take small dogs, cats, possums, and even koalas from trees - I know they've taken some of my guinea fowl from their roosts, but they are such magnificent birds that I'm glad we have them on our property.
I'm editing the sequel to Muted to try and make it as good as possible. I worry it will disappoint readers, but it will be better than some books, not as good as others.
I hope you are having a good start to the year.
