Reveal, Eyes and Discover.

‘Depression’ – artist Mykey.

One of the unseen mental illnesses is Depression – not the type of hole in a landscape, but a deep well of hopelessness in a person. Most of us have ‘down’ days or moments, but we strive to pull up our socks, put on our big girls’ blouses and soldier on. BUT … if you have a depression that is impossible to escape, you should seek help.

One of the problems with medical depression, is that the person covers it up with a smile and a facade of joyfulness. Think of Robin Williams for a moment. The outward personality, although, in hindsight we could possibly see as manic, certainly didn’t give us any clue to his inner turmoil. This happens with many people with mental disorders – whether it is depression, or other types of illness.

If you find out that someone has a mental illness – DON’T judge, DON’T ignore, and DON’T be embarrassed. DO give your support and ALWAYS be kind.

Now enjoy my short story that was inspired by both the painting by Mykey as well as by my desire to always be kind and supporting.

Finding Life.

Dave stood on the headland and looked out to sea. Below him were dark, jagged rocks. That was how he felt – dark and shattered. His life had no purpose. He felt unloved and completely alone. He almost smiled – at least the rocks had other rocks nearby and they were caressed daily by the constant touch of the ocean.

He turned slightly and looked behind at the green hills rolling away into the distance, always going up towards the sky, the light of the sun warming them.

But he was cold.

He took another step towards the edge. Could he jump? Should he jump? Would anyone care?

He must have stood there for hours. time, at that point meant nothing. Nothing mattered.

***

Susan wondered where Dave was. He had gone for a walk and hadn’t returned, so she put on her coat, wrapped her scarf around her neck and added a warm hat, then walked out the door.

The wind wasn’t as cold as she had imagined, and the sun glittered off the ripples of the water that stretched to the pale blue of the horizon. As she crested a slight dip in the path, she saw Dave. He was close to the edge, looking down at the rocks below.

She stopped.

What was he doing?

As she watched he seemed to move towards the emptiness beyond the cliff. She ran the rest of the way, clasping him around the waist, pulling him into her arms and away from the void.

He looked at her, uncomprehendingly, his eyes blank. They revealed a man at the edge of despair. She held him tightly, aware that he had begun to sob.

“I love you, Dave,” she murmured. “You mean so much to me, and you matter in this world.”

***

Although Dave was alive, it took weeks to help him discover the truth of her love. With support and professional help, he finally learnt to love himself and he finally found the joy in life.

She hoped that depth of depression would never come back to haunt his mind again.

************************************************************************************************************************

Should this story make you feel uncomfortable or depressed within yourself, that wasn’t the intention. Remember that to ask for help is not a weakness – it is a strength.

Children, too, can feel these emotions. Watch them, love them and support them. Reading to a child while on your lap, strengthens the bond between you, whether you be a Mum or Dad on your own, or a family with brothers and sisters. Families take so many different styles today, and wars and sickness and so many other things can result in a traumatized child. Whatever they face, make sure they always know they are loved and cherished. These books ($18 AU plus postage), may help them understand that things can go wrong in life, but these things can be faced with courage and determination.

Helen Heron is brave, and follows a strange helicopter. (a picture book for young children)
A baby blackbird finds himself stranded in the snow. Does he survive? (A chapter book for 8 to 10 year old readers)
Lonely and frightened Giddy tries to find his family (a picture books for young children)

Roses, Ends and Diversify

It’s been a shocker of a couple of years, hasn’t it? Not just for me, but for everyone. People have been trying to make ends meet, or keeping a business going, and at the same time facing a pandemic and government restrictions. From home-schooling the children, to wearing masks and facing mental issues through loneliness and stress from lock-down, it has been a change of lifestyle so foreign to all of us, that it has broken many people.

Unable, often, to visit loved ones, and seeing elderly family members facing the horror of the Coronavirus and the indignity of ventilators and maybe even death. All these difficulties have not helped at all.

So, try and remember to keep yourself and those around you well. Try and find the time to smell the roses, keep busy and diversify your interests.

If you are interested in any of the books or paintings featured in my blog, please follow the links below, or Direct Message me. Thank you.

Here is a gorgeous painting by Mykey, that has the marvellous message to slow down and do just that.

The story it inspired follows.

Painting by Mykel. (SOLD)

Perspective on the world.

“For goodness sake, Daniel, will you hurry up!”

Danny sighed and tried to keep up with his father’s long strides. But it was difficult. He couldn’t take his time and actually look at the world around him. At the speed his father travelled, everything was a blur.

Suddenly in the concrete pathway, he saw a smudge of colour. He stopped and bent his head to look. A fragile flower was struggling to exist in a crack in the pavement, but it was definitely surviving. Danny smiled and was about to smell the bloom when his Dad turned around, grabbed his hand and yanked him along towards the city building towering in front of them.

Danny blinked. He was just a little scared. Seeing a doctor when you never had to before, was a huge step to take for a small child of four. He stood and waited at the lift, clutching his father’s hand tightly. The doors opened they both walked in.

The jolt of the elevator starting caused Danny’s stomach to flutter with nerves. He hoped he didn’t upset everyone and be sick.

But the feeling passed and before long they were sitting in a waiting room, with several other people. Danny sat, swinging his legs, until his father hissed at him to stop. Then the lady at the counter told them to come into another room.

Danny was overwhelmed by it all. There were machines whirring and all sorts of charts up on the walls. A man came in and shone a bright light into his eyes. A nurse made him tilt his head, and dropped in a liquid into his eyes that made them sting.

Then they waited.

That visit was one of many in the next few years. An operation or two and many more examinations followed, until finally he had spectacles placed on his nose.

The joy of seeing that trees in the distance had leaves (he never knew that before) and the ability to see everything that others took for granted was amazing. To be able to stop and touch and smell the flowers around his home, created a life that Danny felt made all those traumatic visits to doctors over the years, so worthwhile.

When he was able, he thanked his father, but insisted, now that he could see so much better, he would always take time to appreciate the beauty around him.

***

A catalogue of books and art works is available if you would like to Direct Message me.

If you enjoyed this short story, feel free to visit my facebook sites:-

https://www.facebook.com/BooksByMaureenLarter

https://www.facebook.com/Sweetfields-Publisher

https://www.facebook.com/AlphabetanimalsofAustralia

Rejected, Evening and Decorations

The evenings of Winter draw around us. In the northern hemisphere it is time for eggnogs, Christmas sleigh rides and snowy outings. The Winters of Australia fall in the middle of the year, when we all are thinking about tax returns and the end of the financial year. Our Christmas is still six months away, and then it will be hot and weather for the beach. It is ironic to me that even so, our Christmas cards and decorations are colourful pictures of snowy landscapes, our Santas still dress in the warm red suits and long boots and we still expect a hot roast dinner in the middle of the day.

Fortunately, it is slowly changing.

Easter rabbits are now Australian Bilby’s, Christmas Santa wears a red swimsuit and his sleigh is pulled by Kangaroos.

However, our winter is still considered the perfect time for weddings and romance.

Below is a painting of a spider’s web by Patsy Seager. She challenged me to write a short story with a romantic flavour. Here is the story it inspired. As always, if you are interested in buying any of the art featured in my blog posts this year, please direct message me.

My facebook page is https://www.facebook.com/Sweetfields-Publisher

‘Web’ by Patsy Seager. $150

Butterfly Bravery.

 In the light of the winter evening sunset, Dana shivered, and stood looking at the web in front of her. She was heartbroken. John had rejected her.

The butterfly spasmed, and a large spider ran toward its victim. Dana couldn’t watch. She plucked the beautiful creature from its fate, dislodging a leaf that had blown into the same web.

That’s when she noticed the flowers.

Why was life so cruel? She had given John her heart and  couldn’t believe he had not felt the same.

She opened her hand and let the butterfly free. It flew to the nearest flower and alighted there, as if it was catching its breath, then with a daring leap jumped into the unknown. Then it fluttered away, disappearing into the gathering darkness.

Dana carefully took the gumnut flowers from the web and turned to walk away. Now the spider was bereft of its meal, and the decorations as well.

She sauntered down the hill towards the village, thinking about the next move she should make.

When she looked up, she saw John running towards her. She stood still, as if she, too was, like the butterfly, resting on its flower. What was she going to do?

“Dana,” John breathed loudly as he reached her, bending and placing his hands on his thighs as he panted. “Forgive me, darling. I can’t live without you! I should never have said what I did! I was so confused. But I love you … please take me back.

Dana thought of that butterfly.

The gumnut flowers fell to the ground. She took a deep breath and flung herself into his arms.

Available to buy – children’s picture books – a little about bravery:-

Helen Heron gathers her courage, and flies into the unknown.
Just like the butterfly is set free,
John Jabiru sets an animal free, too

Both books are AU$18 each plus postage. If you are interested. please Direct Message me.

If you wish to see other books written by Maureen Larter, or Published by Sweetfields Publishing, feel free to visit.

https://www.facebook.com/Sweetfields-Publisher

https://www.facebook.com/AlphabetanimalsofAustralia

https://www.facebook.com/BooksByMaureenLarter

Razed, Evicted and Destroyed.

One of the continual battles throughout the ages, has always been human leaders going to war. The need for more land and power, causes such leaders to decimate and conquer whole areas and peoples. It never seems to end.

In that process, whole villages and towns are razed to the ground. Original inhabitants are evicted from unlivable homes and culture, histories and customs are destroyed or merged with the new conqueror’s ideals. It seems, that in all that happens, no-one really wins.

Please remember, if you are interested in any of the books or paintings featured in my blog, please follow the links, or Direct Message me. Thank you.

This painting by renowned artist, Mykey, inspired me to tell the following story.

Flow

Loneliness.

I stood quietly next to my horse and gazed around at the beautiful view. On the horizon lay the verdant hills of my homeland. I placed my hand on Honehe* and the softness of his neck calmed me. The plain in front of me was covered in yellow grass, and the breeze sent shivers along the valley. The swirls of the grass reminded me of the beauty of nature.

The hunt this morning had been successful, and the family would not go hungry for a while. I hoped we would be able to store some meat for when the snows came.

I stood for a while longer, soaking in the silence. My brothers would be waiting in the village to butcher the buffalo and section it out according to our customs.

I turned to go, ready to leap upon the back of Honehe when I saw the dust in the distance. Was it a whirlwind? Was it a war-party? I strained my eyes to search for the answer before I raced off to warn the tribe.

***

“Oh, do slow down,” Sarah Martin said to her husband, John. “Just look at this valley! Isn’t it beautiful?”

Two tousled heads popped out of the wagon and looked around, but Hannah and George didn’t seem to be interested and they disappeared back into the comfort of their beds.

“The children don’t yet understand the importance of what we are doing,” John said, when Sarah frowned at the children. “We have made this journey to find a better life.”

“Yes,” Sarah said. “I just hope that we don’t get set upon by the savages that are out here.”

Just at that moment, Joseph Williams, their guide came gallpoing up.

“There are Indians coming!” he shouted at them. “Get armed and hide your wife and children,” he shouted to John as he continued towards the other wagons to give the same message.

***

Many months later, at a small gathering in the town they were settling into, Sarah said to Martha, at the general store.

“It happened so quickly, that I’m not sure if it was the Indians who shot the first arrow, or one of our party who fired their gun, but I lost my husband in the ruckus, and I hear the Indians were rounded up and sent off to a reservation. All we wanted was a better life.” She shook her head and Martha tutted in sympathy.

***

I bowed my head and trudged on. The tribe were dispirited and lonely. All I had now were the clothes upon my back, and one brother beside me. Everything else had been lost in the bloody battle that had followed. We had only wanted to welcome the newcomers to our land. Where we were going was unknown, but now my homeland was gone.

*Honehe is the Cheyenne word for Wolf.

I write children’s picture books, as well as chapter books. The two following books are about lonliness. ‘Giddy the Galah’ is a picture book about a bird looking for his family, while ‘Petey’ is about a bird unfortunately forced out of home and finding himself in a hostile environment. Both books are AU$18 plus postage, so if you would like one, please contact me throught a direct message. (https://www.facebook.com/AlphabetanimalsofAustralia or https://www.facebook.com/Sweetfields-Publisher )

Remember, Endurance and Dirt

Memories are amazing. The picture, taken by Christine of Moonlit Magic fame, (http://instagram.com/kyrin_moonlit_magic) brought back an incident from my past. I still remember it well. I guess it also shows the endurance of a child and the ability of the brain to store trauma. I wasn’t a country kid, but my four cousins were. Farming ,self-sufficiency, dirt, and fantasy was all part of their existence. As an only child I was jealous. So here is a snippet from my past – now well over 50 years ago!

This photo, by Christine of Moonlit Magic, was taken at Broadmeadow Race track, New South Wales, Australia.

THE SCAR

          The tree was tall and full of branches. My cousin looked at me and grinned. She was up the trunk like a monkey.

          “Come on up,” she called, settling herself on a particularly large branch.

          I wasn’t the most accomplished tree climber — but I managed to follow, by crawling my way up. I sat down next to her feeling quite impressed with myself.

          Every day we visited the tree — it became our own version of ‘The Faraway Tree.’  There was magic in the isolation, and in the fact that I had been forbidden to climb – not just that tree, but ANY tree.

          About a fortnight later, we were once again clambering up the tree — I had become more and more courageous. I stepped on a small branch that we had used many times in order to catapult myself up to the next level.

          Snap!

          With agonizing slowness, I slid down the trunk, the jagged branch slicing into my leg as I passed it.

          I can remember sitting on the ground in the dirt with a dazed look on my face, staring at my leg and wondering why it wasn’t bleeding. Something white glinted in the depths of the open skin. My hands went around my leg in an automatic gesture to hold the parted flesh together. My cousin scrambled down and stood over me.

          “Oh, boy!” she moaned. “Are you ever going to get into trouble!”

           I said not a word.

          With hesitating gasps I got to my feet… and walked the two kilometres home. To say there was hell to pay is putting it mildly. There was no way I could obfuscate, even though I tried. Better to tell the truth plainly.

          My Aunt settled me down, then pulled the partial branch from my leg, and cobbled the wound together with a Band-Aid and bandage. My mother, on the other hand, was furious. I wouldn’t let her near me.

          Do you know how many times people touch you on your leg when it is hurting? Everybody — that’s who.

          Now you know why I have that scar. It might have happened over fifty years ago,

but the memories haven’t dimmed, just as the mark is always there to remind me. 

Another story about a tree.

As I write children’s books, you may be interested in one of my ‘read-to-me’ picture books. ‘Kathy Koala’s Kerfuffle’ is about an argumentative Koala, who creates a problem for her friends in the Australian bush. If you are interested, please feel free to go to my facebook page https://www.facebook.com/AlphabetanimalsofAustralia and private message me.

Relations, Easter and Drawing.

Well, we are now in the Easter celebrations for this year. As an apiarist, it is time to put our little insect friends to bed for the winter, making sure they have plenty of food to see them through the cold months that are on the way. Funnily enough, I received a bee -autiful card last Christmas from one of my relations. She is, like me and her siblings, someone who was brought up without television. Even though it was available at the time, my mother and her mother were adamant that we should consider education first, play musical instruments and learn lots of craft.

We all learnt piano and a different musical instrument (violin, flute, harp etc) and we all learned to sew or knit or crochet or tat, or all of the above and would practice our chosen passion every day. Lynnetta’s was drawing and painting (she teaches piano and harp) , mine was my piano and violin, and lately, writing as well. Lynnetta worked in water-colour, and illustrated one of my Alphabet Animals of Australia picture books (AU$18 plus postage – DM me if you are interested)

Here is the card she sent me. She often works in miniature, and her cards sell for $5 each. If you would like to see more of her work, please let me know.

It inspired me to write a cute little story.

It’s called :

Night Story

As the sun slid over the horizon on the planet Hive, Buzz Bumblebee shepherded his two young offspring into their cells.

“Please read us a story, Dad,” his daughters begged.

Buzz sighed.

“You need your sleep, young’uns,” he said. “Tomorrow is a big day in the colony, you know. We are going to the launch ceremony for the Ninja space craft that will be exploring the Widerfields that the last lot of Drones discovered.”

“I know, Dad, but that’s so boring. Please read the one about the Princess and the Dragon.”  Hummer nudged her younger sister and crossed her feet behind her back.

Buzz frowned.

“We are going to the Launch tomorrow, whatever you say! I’ve worked on the Ninja project for nearly 5 months and we need to know what is out there. Maybe we will find more beeings like ourselves. Who knows?”

Both Hummer and Flower grumbled.

Hummer pouted. “There’s no other life on the outside of our world, Dad, it’s all only hope and theory – you know they need to find a place with more water and nectar for our type to exist, and I don’t think they ever will – after all we can’t travel overly far or for very long into the unknown and survive ourselves!”

Buzz raised his antenna, bobbed his head and gave in to the girls demands. He grabbed the storybook from the shelf and sat on the edge of the bed. He stroked Hummer on her head, wiping away a fragment of pollen that she hadn’t cleaned off.

“Stop with the negativity, Hummer.”

Then he turned to Flower, so pretty that he smiled and opened the book on his knee.

” Lay down Flower. Now…”

The girls wriggled into their comfort of their beds and looked at their father with wide and excited eyes, He began to read.

“Once upon a time the Dragon Wasp flew around the Castle. Princess Properlis was extremely frightened. She called upon her warrior band and….”

Buzz stopped and glanced at his children – they were already fast asleep!

Some places to check :-

https://www.facebook.com/Sweetfields-Publisher

https://www.facebook.com/BooksByMaureenLarter

https://www.facebook.com/AlphabetanimalsofAustralia

Retreat, Exits and Distractions

Over the years, life has thrown a lot of curve balls at me, and the miniature painting done by my cousin prompted me to write of life’s distractions and consequent memories. Whoever is at the retreat, discovers the solitude and beauty of nature is a balm to a fractured soul. I know how that feels. Hope you enjoy the little story, just in time for Valentine’s day.

The miniature paintings that my cousin does are used on greeting cards (at AU$5 each) and she is willing to do single, special ones just for you. If you are interested, please message me and I will pass on the information.

I write as well, but romance and relationships are not my normal genre (I write picture books and chapter books for children – see https://www.facebook.com/BooksByMaureenLarter and https://www.facebook.com/AlphabetanimalsofAustralia ), but I have ventured into adult fiction. ‘Tarnished Gems’ is available and is about the lives of six women, who become entwined after an accident. Again, message me if you are interested in this book. I write under the pen-name Marguerite Wellbourne, as some of the content is not suitable for children.

Cover of my book

The miniature by Lynnetta McGrath is :-

The Exit.

The sea has always beckoned me. I can sit and contemplate the view for ages. The calming effect of merely watching waves come and go towards the shore is mesmerising.

While driving to Sydney to visit a friend, an intriguing turn-off from the highway distracted me. I had to see what was at the end of the road, and so I took the exit. The bitumen petered out and a dusty track meandered on. I followed.

A small quaint bed and breakfast establishment was hidden at the end, in a semi-secluded spot overlooking a quiet beach.

I stopped and immediately decided to stay the night. I wandered inside, paid for a room and purchased a bottle of red and a sandwich, then strolled over to a picnic table and sat down to enjoy the snack and the view.

It so reminded me of the day you proposed.

Where had those forty years gone? Why had you been taken from me so soon? The cancer had been cruel and left you a mere shadow of yourself, but I could still see the love for me in the depth of your confused and desperate gazes. I remember holding your hand in mine and giving you secret, but heartfelt, permission to leave this world, even though the tears made silent tracks down my cheeks.

You sighed, like the whisper of the waves upon the sand, then retreated to be one with the Universe.

And so I sit and watch the sea … and remember. Not just the end, but the constant joy you gave me over the years.

When the sun sank behind the distant headland, I got up and felt at peace. I rang my friend and told her I would see her tomorrow. I had another sandwich and took the last dregs of the wine to my room.

Later, as I sank into sleep, I smiled. The memories were no longer sad.

You would always be my love … my valentine.

Refresh, Energize and Diverge.

2020 has been a difficult year and I must apologize for neglecting my blog. We have all suffered, from drought, fires, floods and Covid, and I have been busy, at home during lock-down, writing and published more of my own and other author’s books. All the books are available from me – so please message me if anything looks interesting to you. The following is only a small sample (page two has my catalogue on it).

On a completely different tangent, I’ve also learned to knit with 4 needles and have made myself 4 pairs of socks for next winter.

Now I feel it’s time to refresh, energize and renew my blog … diverge into a different style – give my readers some of my writing with short stories inspired by various artist’s work.

So … enough of my waffling! Please remember, if you are interested in any of the books or paintings featured in my blog, please follow the links ( https://www.facebook.com/BooksByMaureenLarter ), ( https://www.facebook.com/AlphabetanimalsofAustralia ), ( https://www.facebook.com/Sweetfields-Publisher ), or Direct Message me. Thank you.

This is the first of twelve paintings that have inspired me to write a short story. Don’t forget to follow the links to more of this artist’s works. This painting is by Mykel. If you would like to see more of his work pop over to his Instagram account – https://www.instagram.com/kwhyette

Waterdragon

Serpents.

Lucius stepped back and checked the floor again. One more tile and a polish, and the design would be finished.

He squatted down and placed the last of the lapis-lazuli tiles in position, then relaxed back on his heels and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He was very happy with the work, the centre-piece of the lavish courtyard in this lush holiday villa. He was looking forward to doing his next job for Marcus Flavius.

That next job included a vicious, snarling dog. It was to be laid in the entrance foyer as a warning to unwanted guests.

Lucius smiled. Marcus Flavius had been so impressed by his designs, he had freed Lucius from the bonds of slavery and was in the process of gaining the necessary Roman citizenship for him. He would do a mosaic worthy of his own elevation, and to do his ex-master proud.

Only a couple of weeks later, the dog was nearly finished. Lucius’s Roman citizenship had come through and he was about to set up his own business in the main city centre. He could see a bright future ahead of him.

There was a rumble beneath his feet. What was happening. He got up off the floor and ran. There had been only a few tiles left to place.

***

The drone that belonged to Arthur swept over the next part of the archaeological site. It’s infrared cameras sent back to the computer a rough outline of a large villa.

Arthur had already begun the dig.

He was excited.

They could see the beginnings of a mosaic, undamaged by the layers of ash that Vesuvius had spewed over the town. Slowly a head of a large black and tan dog appeared – it’s mouth open in a growl and it’s fangs large and menacing. What a magnificent work of art. The owner of the villa must have been wealthy to have been able to hire such wonderful craftsmen.

Arthur turned to his partner.

“Such a pity this was never finished.” he remarked “But I wonder what other treasures we will find within this villa’s walls?”

Relief, Endurance and Dirt

Finally I’ve managed to sit and have the head-space to write another blog post. After the horrors of our summer in Australia, we have some relief.

Of course, Australia being Australia – think of Dorothea Mackellar’s poem – a land of droughts and flooding rains – well, that’s just it. We went about 10 months of no rain – the land was parched, the grass and trees died or were dying. There were patches of bare dirt. Cows, horses, goats and sheep were starving and many a farmer despaired.

Then the temperature soared into the 40s (C) and we burst into flames.fire

Australia burnt – everywhere. The landscape changed radically. Paddocks were blackened. Stock still had nothing to eat, and feed was expensive, when it could be found. Trees became roaring torches and burnt from the inside to the top, then toppled. Houses, built by frail humans were no match for the ferocity.

People cried.

The Australian spirit of endurance was called upon for this second wave of horror.

Finally, Mother Nature gave us the rain … and rain … and more rain … and even more rain. The paddocks were stripped of their top soil, but somehow seeds germinated. Dirt became mud. Bridges washed away. Water soaked the ground until it could no longer hold more.

Floods are our third disaster.flood

But I’m not complaining – not really.

The dams are full and so are the tanks and water catchment areas. Water is so necessary. After all – you can put your toes in the water, but not in flames.

People are now starting to re-shape and re-build their lives. Now we must adapt to our new Earth and its vagaries of climate.

Keep your chin up, hold on to hope and keep battling on. Fight against the whims of nature and now the new threat of disease. Do the best you know how, to improve the small area of this Earth that you occupy. Save water, reconsider your use of plastics, use your car a little less often and be aware of the waste you accumulate. In other words, walk gently upon this earth – she is the only home in the Universe you have. Don’t destroy it!earth

And don’t forget to keep peace with your soul and those around you.

Smile.

 

Rags, Emergencies and Dinosaurs

Another month has gone, and Christmas looms! I always try to have gifts ready by now, but, again, time has moved too swiftly and busily to think of it. My gifts are always small and, hopefully, fit to the person I give them. But gifts are a privilege. So many do not get them, or can afford the luxury of giving them.

I think of all the people in far flung places (was it really a year ago that I was in Cambodia?) and wonder why the western world creates such a commercial broohaha over every festival of the year. We are encouraged to SPEND, SPEND, and SPEND all the time. The poor people of the world, even within our own society, often live in rags, concerned only with living and surviving one day at a time – and we in the ‘civilized’ world don’t show the care of the planet, environment or those less fortunate than ourselves.

How dare we!

And that comment brings to mind the passionate speech of Greta, castigating the governments for not fixing the climate change of our planet. Then there are the protesters who are using violence to change the regimes of oppression in other parts of the world. I guess my opinions are not worth much, but I wonder whether those people have any solutions, or are just yelling at others who also can’t fix the emergencies of the world?

I would like to see the people with the solutions get the type of airplay that those angry people get. The fact that people in Africa are digging the desert to re-green it, that Egypt is planting trees to stop the march of the desert sand in their country, the people in Australia growing coral to fix the barrier reef, the volunteers who feed the poor, the farmers struggling to help feed the masses trying to use sustainable practices – this is where our thoughts and efforts should be directed.

Can YOU live your life in a better way?

Can YOU help fix the mountains of plastic, general waste and the acquisition of ever more ‘gadgets’?

I know, in my life, I have endeavored to curb my desire for all the fripperies of the world, I’ve been to places to help teach and educate, and I strive to make my small plot of earth better than I found it.

If everyone followed those principles – no doubt, the planet would be better off. At the moment, all I see is the rush towards the same fate as the dinosaurs!

There is more in this world to hope for than that!