Lent is always a good time to visit Jamberoo Abbey.
Lots of peace and time to appreciate my natural surroundings.
The trees on the avenue were starting to turn from their lush summer green.
And shed their leaves.
I was struck by how much those trees have grown. This was taken five years ago, and the branches were still very wide apart.
We’ll end this series with a banner that was in the prayer room.
Quite apt for a retreat day – or frankly, for life in general.
Stand off at the OK Corral.
It’s been awhile since I last visited Jamberoo Abbey. My latest visit was on a midsummer’s weekend with BB. The dairy cows were out in the main pasture, and they were an interesting addition to an already beautiful scene.
In the middle of the monastery was an enclosed garden. It was very green, very tranquil, a perfect place to contemplate.
I love the shapes and textures of the foliage. The Japanese have landscaping down to a fine art.
Discovering the EatingAsia blog has made me very hungry. Fortunately, there is a lot of good quality SE Asian food around the city and I was able to indulge in some laksa and kueh teao.
It also reminded me that it’s two years ago that I visited Bali, and I’ll spend some time this week in reminiscence.
To start off with, a rather sobering subject – the bombings.
It’s quite a shock to see all those names on the memorial.
I ate with some family friends on the beach restaurant where the second bomb exploded, and I can’t imagine what the carnage was like.
Yet despite it all, it’s also rather sobering to see back then the lack of tourists and closed businesses. Personally, I never felt threatened at all and it’s ludicrous for Aussies to stay away. I think that the Balinese deserve a chance, and I’m glad to hear that things have improved from 2 years ago.
I received a little sketch book for my birthday and have been making gradual use of it since. It’s been half a lifetime since I took up a pencil (or a brush for that matter) so this foray into drawing has been a long time coming.
The sketch book came in handy during my recent visits to Jamberoo. I happily wiled away the time sketching in between walks and visits to the Abbey itself. I had forgotten how relaxing it can be. It is a meditation in itself.
In the middle of the paddock stands a Moreton Bay Fig tree. I have been fascinated with this tree ever since my first visit to the Abbey. The tree is magnificent, larger than the trees in the park behind my childhood home, bigger I suspect than the trees in the Royal Botanical Gardens in the city.
Everytime I see it, I gaze in wonder. The tree seems to have a presence of their own. What wisdom could it hold after keeping watch for hundreds of years?
The day was unusually bright for autumn, and I was happy to follow the path into the bush. Here, eucalypts and blackwoods formed a rich canopy that hid a wonderland of dappled sunlight and ferns that carpeted the forest floor.
I breathed in the air, so noticeably fresher than that in Sydney, before ambling down the path. It meandered between trees and bushes, past a gurgling stream that eventually tumbled down a waterfall. Resting on a bench, I contemplated its gentle sound, and those of the forest – the shrill of the cicada, the screech of the cockatoo, the rings of the lyrebird, the laugh of the kookaburra – before continuing on. After a delightful half-an-hour of meandering, the path emerged into a meadow. I stepped into the light…
C’est toi ma lampe, Seigneur.
Mon Dieu éclaire ma ténèbre.
Seigneur, mon Dieu, éclaire ma ténèbre.
Seigneur, mon Dieu, éclaire ma ténèbre.
Your word, O Lord, is a light.
My God, enlighten my darkness.
O Lord, my God, enlighten my darkness.
O Lord, my God, enlighten my darkness.
Static and Silence 