Pip woke me for the second time this morning at about 6.45am. The earlier was about 4.30am, too early for me to go outside to the shed in total darkness to feed her so after letting her out for a pee and a thirst quench for me as well I went back to bed.
Second time up the sun was rising in the east and the sky was lit in stunning rose pink brightness behind the tree silhouettes. I stood on the deck absorbing this beauty for ten minutes, the birds singing their joy; blackbirds, kookaburras, magpies, and others I can't say I could identify. It was perfectly still, and not cold, I checked the thermometer, it said 9C. The peace and beauty of this early morning will stay in my memory, possibly forever.
I realized that no matter the result of yesterday's federal election, the sun rises, the birds sing, and just like after every other election I've experienced, life goes on pretty much exactly the same. The previous night I'd gone to Maria's house to watch the count unfold, fully expecting a Labour victory. There, in the company of Maria, poet John, Isabella and Cathy, all Labour supporters, Gord and I watched in almost total disbelief as the figures revealed the return of the Coalition.
So nothing changes. The rich will get richer, the poor poorer. Environment degradation to continue.
I'm just so glad to be able to enjoy the the peace and quiet of the morning, at age 67. I'm hoping I will live to see the next election projected to be in 2022, meaning I'd be seventy years old. A nice target. I'm fortunate in good health and I'm confident the target achievable. Hopefully there'll be many more beautiful sunrises and days enjoying the natural world.
Politics is a human construct. My good mate RR has voted informal for decades and refuses to get involved. Perhaps he's right. I regret I didn't put some on the Libs at the 6 to 1 the bookies were offering, I thought about it but decided it would be throwing money away, they had Labour at 1.12 for a dollar, a sure thing I thought.
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