I just had a couple of days helping my friend Frank paint his house and generally bum around his charming inner-city Brisbane suburb. It was delightful to walk some different terrain, and take pictures of things that hadn’t washed in on the previous night’s tide.
Also, it finally rained, which made the hills and coffee shops and leg-waxing salons (it’s a very well-waxed suburb) all the more refreshing — it’s been hot of late. Yesterday, back here on the edge of the Bay, we got our long-rumoured storm: 70ml of sweet clear glory sloshed around in our backyard gauge after a mere hour; wind-whipped water poured in over the tops of my sliding windows even though they were closed. It was fantastic, and the local park resembled the Serengeti afterwards, ibis, egrets and other waders by the hundreds combing the lake-like puddles when I trotted up with my camera to investigate. More on all that stuff coming up.
So, listen: I’ve made a pact with myself (and my girlfriend, who is one hell of a tough task-master). I’m gonna shoot for more frequent posts from here on. One every three days is the goal. I haven’t found a (paying) job yet, but in some ways am busier than ever. Haven’t missed a dawn in months, and they get earlier each day; this morning I had to reach the water, half an hour’s walk away, by 4:45. I am working on another Thousand-Mile Challenge, and manage a seven-mile minimum most days. I re-emerge in late afternoon when the sun is tolerable to do some more.
I figure I should at least be using this time in limbo to work on my photo skills, keeping fit, and writing something. When I’m home, after an hour’s nap and another hour talking to Kate, I’m mostly editing or re-editing pictures, some dating back years. It all helps ease the anxiety about My Situation, and is an investment in what I am sure will be a rewarding future, but it does dampen the Drive to Blog, and what’s the point of occupying this little niche if I’m not going to make it bear fruit? So here goes.
First, though, let’s wrap up my Kyogle adventure at last with a photo-overview of the two-day getaway that turned into a four-day slice of heaven…
* * * * *
It was hard to leave — impossible really. Amazing we’re not still there. The days started with birdsong and the slow stirring of the bush into action…
..and ended with Alex and I slumping up the hill to our container-ship berths (lacking only the ship):
Those dawns were special…
..and always involved some wandering about the block till the others woke:
Days were our own to fill. Alex and I drove into Kyogle one day for a coffee and some supplies. It was astonishingly tiny and quiet, and I took only one photo while there:
A beautiful drive, though:
One morning, Alex took me down to see the little creek that trickles though the property…
..the highlight of which was the grove of remnant red cedars (the harvesting of which was once a lucrative industry) colonised by gorgeous, otherworldly staghorn ferns:
Graham took us on hair-raising spins in their zesty little Suzuki…
..and we had a very pleasant excursion to wade in another section of the creek one hot afternoon:
Hours passed effortlessly. Time didn’t worry the eucalypts, and they seemed to know what they were doing:
Graham had shown me the network of dirt tracks on his insanely fun Suzuki roller-coaster ride. I explored them all over those days at my leisure…
..and this was one of the few trips I’ve done where I was able to edit most of my day’s pictures by bedtime — a perfect blend of the lazy and the satisfyingly productive.
Bec cooked us great meals, Graham was most hospitable with his shower prep (he took great pride in getting the water to the optimal temperature, and as a Japanese hot-spring veteran, my standards are high — and hot):
One day my companions actually spent ages watching the joys of cloudbirth:
And that was about as exciting as it got.
But hey, I’m 50, time I settled down a tad.
~ And that’s all the Goat wrote