Bronwyn Rennex, Gunyah Kookaburras
I’m working on a creative non-fiction project and thinking about birds, so being at Gunyah was a great opportunity to s.l.o.w.d.o.w.n. and observe. I eased myself into a different scale of being, a lovely respite from sitting at my desk in Newtown getting caught up in doom scrolling, bill paying, grocery shopping, clothes hanging…
Bronwyn Rennex, Gunyah fire |
At Gunyah I listened to unfamiliar birds bring in the day. I watched the pair of noisy miners (… my friend Dave called them pardalotes … I still think I’m right), whose nest is just above the back deck, defend their chick(s) from the daily incursions of bigger birds. I paddled across the water towards the island, where what looked like a pale branch at the top of a tree, ended up being the white breast of a sea eagle surveying its world. At night it was cold enough to have fires.
Bronwyn Rennex, Adam and Bron at Gunyah |
I worked pretty solidly each day, whether it was writing, going down Google rabbit holes via famous Bronwyns; through to Welsh mythology; and a story about soldiers carrying the head of fellow warrior back home, where it continued chatting to them for the next 7 years; or reading what Ralph Clark wrote about dreams and birds in his journal. My partner Adam visited for a few days, then my friends Dave and Janet came. It was lovely to be able to share the experience with them and enjoy the added bonus of their excellent cooking skills.
Bronwyn Rennex, Gunyah reading |
I’ve come back to Newtown refreshed and inspired to continue working. Thanks so much Kath and Gunyah for the gift of space and time.
Bronwyn Rennex, Gunyah jetty selfie panorama |