Bad storms around us again. Harrisville and Ipswich are getting flogged. The horses are galloping past the window. Drifter bucked, which for a lazy horse is quite an accomplishment, but they are only feeling the cold rain. There is blue sky behind, no hail although I'd wager, from the look on the radar, that some places are getting hail. Yesterday there was hail as large as cricket balls plus damaging winds. We're very lucky to get a few more mls of rain without the damage. It's odd to watch the radar because there's something about the topography which causes a long line of storms to split just as they come over us. Perhaps it's the hilly country to the southwest through Heifer Creek which causes the bifurcation - now there's a word! Anyway, we get a heavy shower which cools and refreshes and which will make my afternoon bike ride very pleasant.

Walked sans dogs yesterday afternoon. It was too hot, 33 degrees and high humidity. Not worth the risk (took them at 7:30 this morning which will have to be the routine through summer if they are to get a long walk). Anyway, I was trying to be mindful. Walk with mindfulness, feel each step, listen to the insects, the sound of moving water, the birds, trying to sense the larger ancient trees as I walked past (a doomed effort but I think there is benefit in the trying as one has to listen so hard and with more than just one's ears). Then it occurred to me that walking outside on this country road is rather like exploring the virtual reality of second life. When I go to a new destination and 'walk' I am looking all around me, listening to the sounds the programmer has installed, taking note of the terrain, the flora and fauna (if any), all the things the creator has decided to decorate his virtual location with. Just like reality. There I am, my feet crunching on the gravel and my head pointing toward infinity as I traverse this sphere rife with sights, smells, sounds and sensations. But this reality isn't real any more than secondlife is real. Perhaps it's a bit more real in that SL is derived from it but it's still an illusion. It was a gentle and gently odd place for my mind to be and was helpful in keeping me mindful.

Not so this morning with the dogs. Dogs are so much of the world and so enthusiastic about everything they see, smell and hear. I just have to be there with them and discourage too much enthusiasm as well as sluice them down with water from the still running creek to cool them. Yes, even this morning. We were all wrung out when we returned.

It was so hot and sticky yesterday that I didn't work on the drawing. Went grocery shopping and found a couple of silver xmas baubles to use as mirror balls. (Just spent five minutes trying to figure out how to print a copy of Escher's drawing of his hand holding a mirror ball. Hasn't got a great deal of detail but at least it's a little larger than the small photo I have in the book of his work). Anyway, even though I didn't work on the drawing I kept looking at it, propped up against the woodheater, and seeing it almost as dessert. There's no nicer feeling than having a work in progress.

Had another look at the radar and there's a second stream of storms coming. These will miss us as well as, like the others, they are passing to the NW of us. Wouldn't have minded a little bit more rain but shouldn't complain as this place is absolutely perfect now. It really is a bit of paradise.

Released Reginald, the rainbow lorikeet that came in to work with nothing wrong but a bad case of 'swimmers' in his poo. He's been on medication since he came and had recovered sufficiently to be returned to freedom. It seemed a good time to do it as there are two juveniles hanging around. Mom and Dad did their job and nicked off a couple of days ago. Figured the juveniles wouldn't be so stringent about not allowing new members to their group, plus there would be two extra sets of eyes looking for danger. When he first flew out the door I thought he couldn't fly well enough but he soon gained height and flew to the wattles bordering the peach and dam paddocks. Today he's been hanging around with the others. The food I put out for him has been eaten so even though I haven't actually seen him eat it I suspect he's the only one who would recognise a coop cup. He's flying much more strongly today so I'm hoping all will be well.

Unlike with little Jack the Rainbow Lorikeet of P and G's. Jack was surrendered to the surgery because he was a biter. P&G took him, put him in an aviary and his personality underwent a complete change. He went from Mr. Aggression to Mr. Sook. He fell in love with Peter and went everywhere with him, murmuring sweet nothings into his beard, riding on his shoulder or the steering wheel of the truck, helping with feeding the horses or general chores around the place. He even got on with P's other love interest, Charlie Bob the cockatoo. One would perch on one shoulder, the other on the other. Then I got an email from P. He heard a squawk and went outside in time to see a falcon fly off with Jack. Jack's last words were 'OK Mate'. We are all heartbroken. I feel terrible so can only imagine how gutted P and G are.

And why, of all the words and phrases that Jack knew did he say OK Mate? Was it acceptance of his fate, of death? Why not hello or what are you doin'? Like P said, at least it was quick. Little consolation though.