Tirra meets a new mother

Tirra drifted quietly through the open forest, following no particular path. She meandered along attracted by a clump of flannel flowers or a wattle bird sipping nectar from the spidery flowers of a grevillea. There was a freshness in the air that suggested the end of summer. Tirra stopped and looked around her - the bushland was showing the signs of a dry summer. The trees and bushes looked a little parched and thin while the sandy soil showed through the dry, wispy grass. Tirra picked a gum leaf, crushed it and inhaled the pungent smell. She closed her eyes and put her face to a tea tree bush - her messy curls brushed the fine foliage of the tea tree. She sighed deeply and breathed life into the bushland. In this way, she continued to drift between the big trees. Sunlight passed easily through the open branches of the tall gums. Her drab clothes blended with the soft colours of the bushland - greys, honey browns and dull grey-greens surrounded her. The sun brightened on some fresh green leaf tips and on the mess of auburn curls that escaped from under her hat. Moving along, Tirra looked ahead and saw a woman settled comfortably against the smooth creamy trunk of a gum tree. She was leaning back against the tree with her eyes closed. Tirra stepped forward slowing, her soft shoes making no noise on the twigs and fallen leaves that littered the dry earth. She studied the woman through the screen of a banksia bush and caught a movement in the woman’s lap. A tiny hand, fingers splayed, moved gently in the air - like a small star fish wafting with the tide. A smile came to Tirra’s face. Very gently, the woman lifted a hand and stroked the palm of the wafting starfish. They tiny hand closed on her finger and the young mother smiled. She sat quietly with the sleeping baby on her lap. A willy wag tail fluttered onto a branch nearby and flicked his tail as he looked around. A small breeze stirred the leaves. Tirra made small noises as she stepped around the banksia and put herself in view. The young mother looked up curiously at the figure. She saw a young woman wearing a faded green shirt and khaki shorts, carrying a day pack. Tirra smiled and said, "Hello there," as she moved forward. The woman returned her greeting a little cautiously. Tirra didn’t move too close, she stopped, took off her pack, and rummaged in it. Taking out a bottle, she sat and drank from it. She smiled at the sleeping baby and saw that it was very young. "Girl or boy?" she asked. "Boy." the mother replied, "He’s Ben." Her face softened and she included both Tirra and Ben in her joy. Tirra returned her look and the air was quiet around them. Ben’s hands drifted in the air as his peaceful body lay entirely within his mother’s trust. His face lay smooth and calm. His cheeks and mouth were soft and rounded, his closed eyes like the elegant lines a calligrapher might draw with his finest brush. Tirra and the mother looked down at this sleeping perfection. The life of the three of them was held within the living pulse of the forest. A small breeze lifted the leaves around them and stirred Tirra’s curls. It brushed the mother’s cheek and opened Ben’s eyes. His mother smiled and shaded his upward face with her hat. His lips puckered as his eyes focused and found her face. She saw his recognition and felt his arms wave more deliberately. Slipping her hands under him, she gently lifted him to her face and nuzzled his soft, soft skin with her lips. Breathing in the smell of him. Holding him close, she looked up at Tirra, her eyes full of pleasure. Tirra held them both in her serene gaze. The mother felt the light weight of the new life in her hands and felt the pulse of the sturdy energy in her boy Ben who needed her for everything. She wanted to be his everything - felt that he was part of her, knew every tiny movement of his body and responded in time with the rhythm of his pulse. Tirra and the new mother looked up together when they heard the sounds of someone approaching. A man came into view, he smiled at the young mother and looked curiously at Tirra. Tirra moved away a little as the man moved close to the young mother and said softly, "OK?" The young mother said, "Fine." She let the man take Ben from her and she stood up and stretched. Tirra made moves to leave, putting on her pack while the young mother came up to her and opened her arms. She and Tirra hugged. Tirra smiled and reached into her pocket. She held a small smooth stone in the palm of her hand, it was a steely blue-grey with white vein markings as old as time. The young mother accepted it quietly, felt the smoothness in her hand. Tirra drifted off into the grey-green forest, while the young mother turned back to her child and husband.