Brown twists of hair flew behind me as I fell from my glider and into a tree.

The weather had turned suddenly from a strong yet placid breeze and into a vicious wind.

Now stuck, I had to abandon my little air craft, or risk staying in the tree. Getting down and onto the ground was my next problem.

Dangling from the straps that held me in the pilot’s seat, I undid them so that I could, swing my legs.

Having navigated my way out of the glider, I was able to now scale down the trunk of the tree.

Landing with a thump on the ground, I realised I was totally and completely lost. And with no water to drink, or even an apple, I knew I just had to get home before dark.

Looking up, I was glad for the shelter of the trees, as they protected me from the worst of the weather.

I walked for a bit, not sure where to start my journey home. I couldn’t see the sun, for the shadows underneath the trees were too dark.

Before too long, my worst fears were realised as all the shadows melted into one. I knew night had fallen.
.
Now, being of a scientific mind, at first, I thought it was a trick of the eye.

A shadow seemed to wink at me.

I stared.

It winked again.

Then, out of the tree in front of me, a twig sneezed.

I started to run, pushing twigs out of my face, and catching my hair until it was filled with small burs and tangles.

Plunging face first over a log, I came down into a puddle of mud.

Strong, gentle hands lifted me up.

” Found you.”

With mud in my eyes, my hair now plastered to my cheeks, and it being night, I couldn’t see.

I was guided by the hands into a sitting position. It was the log I was now perched on.A cup that smelt like peppermint tea was thrust into my palms, and the mud was wiped out of my eyes.

A fire danced upon a pile of animal manure illuminating the shadows.

Before me stood a person shaped tree.

“Would you like some help with your glider?” it asked.

I nodded numbly.

“Right then. You better stay with me until we get it fixed.”

My Champion

She lay, gasping in the snow. Her mane was as white as the ice beneath her, although her body was the colour of butter milk.

Red oozed out of an arrow wound. Francis looked away as he grabbed its shaft and pulled.

Too weak to move much, she snorted her pain rather than wriggled.

And then she was still.

The boy patted her handsome face, tears streaming down his cheeks and leaving icy rivelets down his face.

“My poor champion. Thank you for saving my life.”

The Hunter stepped back into the woodland.

Gun

Hi. I’m Bruce, and I have a tale to tell.

Something extraordinary happened to me a little while ago.

I was minding my own business, sitting on my front lawn with my brothers and sisters.

Then suddenly, a light appeared on the horizon.

Being an adventurous type of Gnome, and having been given to my owner as a joke, I stood my ground while the other Gnomes all ran my away and hid.

Now, Gnomes are known to be peaceful creatures. We’re often depicted holding flowers and watering cans.

Not me. The joke was that I came with my own gun. My own pathetic excuse for a gun.

Being made out of clay, it was useless.

Now, this night, I was abducted by aliens. Little green guys came rushing out as the light revealed itself to be a space shuttle.

I was dragged into it’s depths.

Then, I was held in a laboratory and prodded and poked.

I didn’t know how to escape. I was held in outer space in a space shuttle with no way of going back to Earth.

Finally, in a fit of temper, I did something that no Gnome had ever done before.

I threatened them with my gun.

Then, my fingers slipped and hit the trigger.

A beam of light shot out and nuked a little green guy.

The rest of them all ran and hid.

I grabbed one as he ducked to hide, and said to him,

“Take me back home and no one will get hurt.”

He jumped up and down, calling something out in a strange language.

The alien must have understood me, because next thing, I was standing back on my own lawn.

It’s a true story.

Who would know my little clay gun would have been able to work in outer space.

ANZAC day, a personal approach

Last year, on ANZAC day, I wrote about the dark side of this event in the Australian calendar.

You can read it here: http://ANZAC Day's Dark Secret

In response to these thoughts, rather than attend the War Memorial Services, I’m creating a more personal approach.

Instead of listening to stories designed to whip up the Patriotic spirit, I’ve chosen to light a candle. With the candle keeping me company, I sit and dwell on all the reasons why war is not the best way to win at anything.

Not only do I consider war in the context of the ANZACs, but I also spend some time soul searching for when I’ve instigated war and conflict within my own life.

The solution, if it cannot be found in the wider world, can be found at home with oneself. And for that to happen, it’s important to take time out from the busyness of society and look towards one’s own life and impact upon others.

What thoughts do you have on how to cease war?

What personal stand are you making in order to create a more peaceful world?

Legacy and a homecoming

As the mind turns towards one’s legacy, it also turns towards thoughts about the After life

For some, the After life is a place of desolation and fear. For others, it is a place of non existence.

For me, death is a homecoming.

I can spread my love more evenly in death than in life. No longer, am I restrained by time and space, for I have met my God and realised the secret that is within being made in his image.

Don’t get me wrong. I love being alive too. It’s just an admittance that I cannot predict it’s timing and method. All I can control is how I face each day, and ultimately, my own death.

Do you fear death?

What does thinking about your legacy turn your own mind too?

Legacy and friendship

When considering what legacy to leave behind, it is sometimes useful to watch what legacy your friends and own family are leaving behind.

For a clue as to what is really valuable, think about the glue that holds these people in your life.

Is it your religion. Or that you all like to garden, or volunteer.

The themes that run through your closest relationships indicate what your values are.

They also point to what would be valuable to those you care the most about in your life.

And therefore these values can provide a foundation for determining what to centre your legacy around. And for who would benefit from it.

Grief and my love

My beautiful Soul Pet, Milo, taught me a powerful lesson in grief last year.

For those of you who have been following Liz’s Everest since then, you would remember an article including a poem. That poem I wrote at the death of my Granddad.
I posted it upon the death of Milo.

Death was a release for both these living beings. I know that, yet still I can’t help but miss them.

As I face my parents aging, I know that I have the power within me to take the lessons I’ve learned from them into my future. And I know this, because Milo taught me.

The theme for this season is Legacy.

May each of you be thoughtful about the legacy you leave behind. And of the legacy that others give you at their own passing.

Watch this space, as other articles will be posted between now and the end of April, dealing with legacy.

It’s a fitting theme, as those of us in the Southern Hemisphere start the wind down into Winter.