In 2005, for a month I lived in Sydney in solitude. I was with our daughter who was undergoing one of the most difficult periods of her life. I was alone in her cozy flat when she would work on weekdays; weekends would send her to explorations in Sydney. It turned out to be meaningful for both of us.

I would wake up to the boisterous morning greetings of the cockatoos, really noisy even sarcastic sounding parrots. But they lifted my spirit. Often smaller birds would perch on the three tall palms in front of the balcony. They tried to keep me company.

April mornings in Sydney were crispy cold but by the end of May it was biting especially to my knees. Nevertheless the tall firs and spruces exuded a kind of warmth that made me feel a special companionship. There was a chubby tom cat from across the street who never failed to cross to my side each morning. Of course, he didn’t know I was watching him. Continue reading →