Milmeray is a haven of peace and tranquility, a sacred place known and walked within for thousands of years. We are not the first to have found solace in the lichen-embroidered granites, the soft winds slipping between Xanthorrhea, Marri and Jarrah, the silver-threaded tapestry of birdsong against the empty blue and amidst the flowering shrubs and trees.
Bring your singing hearts, or your pens and paintbrushes, or your dancing beings, and always your longing for, or connection with, the sacred. Stillness will meet you here, will rise within and between you – sometimes wild and untamed, a fire to burn away your sorrow and your forgetting; or at other times a cool babbling brook to wash away all your yesterdays and tomorrows and draw you relentlessly into the golden pond of now.
Walk quietly or alone. Take time to sit in the gardens, full of secret magical places and both visible and invisible beings. Watch the Willy Wagtails weave their nest of spider web and alpaca wool, or the honeyeaters dipping their beaks into scarlet bottlebrush. Listen to frogs splatter ancient songs through the night, alongside fluttering fountain and whispering wind.
Take joy in all the loving touches Beryl has brought to this place, by the generosity of a heart broken wide open. She has created here a place of meditation and beauty, with books for the seeker and fresh sources of inspiration for the found. The walls are covered in exquisite artworks, some abstract, others with mythic resonance, and many many images of birds.
This place is filled with wings – not only of bird, moth and butterfly, but also of minuscule insects that churn through the sunlight, like stars being born by morning and by dusk, tiny silver points of reflective light. And if you sit very quietly, together or alone, you may hear the invisible wings that beat with loving fierceness in another realm. They are here, but not here, and at Milmeray, you may find a bridge to carry you to a meeting place where all worlds are one. Where the beating of these wings dissolves all sense of separation, and you know again the Being by which all is held and holding. By which all emerges and withdraws.