Neil Finn

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Holiday musing - caught in a trap

I’ve been on holiday and not looking at the world through the narrow frame of my computer so much. How glorious is a wide horizon. It took a few days, but my senses became tuned in to the rhythm and resonance of cicadas, water lapping on stones, the laughter of children, a soft dreamy piano soundtrack from the cafe below, all sounds merging to induce a sleep that’s gentle and forgiving, bringing to mind my favourite L words, lilting, languid, languorous, listless, lethargic, lazy, lolling, lederhosen. I see intricate golden patterns appearing behind my closed eyes, rich blue amorphous shapes bearing fanciful thoughts with no apparent order or sense.

In the local bar the other night, however, I was confronted by a truth telling about the idyllic place we are currently enjoying. A long term summer resident is fighting to stop the dump burning plastic at night. Out in the deep water, the government are considering oil exploration and, all over the island, large villas are being built. The place is losing its charm for her. I didn’t want to think about it too much, so I excused myself and left, but some of those seeds of doubt are now floating in the murky tide of my conscience that ebbs and flows between realisation and denial.

One morning, a bumble bee flew right into a spider’s web. My grandson Buddy seemed alarmed and we were compelled to free it. The spider was already moving in, reaching out his spindly legs for that fat tasty treat but, with a delicate flick, my broom handle broke through his sticky trap and delivered that stricken bumble bee to his freedom. Moments later, the bumble bee flew overhead in a giddy zig zag victory lap. We all cheered his release, but we have interfered with the natural order as humans do, made a choice… there may be consequences! At the very least, the spider has some major repairs to make and it will take several mosquitoes to add up to one succulent bumble bee. Well, at least no living creature died though our interference.

I feel like we should talk soon. Let me figure out a good way.

I leave you with a clay head, revolving balls and a dancer on the rock… happy holidays.