I must have been about four when I was introduced to the phenomenon of regeneration. At the time, I was on holiday with my family in a resort in Coya, near the mining village of Sewell in Chile where we lived. We were walking from our apartment to the swimming pool when we spotted some skinks on a sun-drenched wall. I can’t remember how it happened, but one of them lost its tail. My brothers and I were a bit saddened by this until my mum pointed out that this was the skink’s protection against predators and that it would eventually grow a new tail.
Do you know those moments when nothing seems to go your way? When, no matter how hard you try, everything you do just doesn’t work out the way you want it to? Well, you can’t win ‘em all, can you?
For a moment she shut her eyes against the sun’s rays. Then she spread her blanket over the long, soft grass in the meadow next to the lavender field and kneeled down. Slowly she undressed until she was completely naked and felt the warmth of the sun caressing her skin. She looked around nervously. She hoped nobody could see her and quickly overcame her fear. She lay down on the blanket, closed her eyes and enjoyed the warm sensation all over her body. Before long, she fell asleep.
Once in a while, on days like this with that gentle autumn sun and the breeze caressing the leaves on the trees, I am overcome by a sense of melancholic longing. It is then that the chattering of a lone magpie takes me on a trip down memory lane, back to the late 70s in Canberra, Australia. Back to the days with my dog Rover.
While writing this story, I can hear the storm wind howling outside. It’s soaring through the trees and making their wintery, bare branches groan. It makes me feel restless. Or is it the other way around? Is my restlessness combined with the restlessness of the people around me causing the wind to blow harder? I believe we influence the world around us more than we may be aware of. Also, I believe everything is connected and interactive. I believe in the butterfly effect.