Sunday, June 17, 2018

Variations of Ephemeral


Variations on a theme - slightly closer to the Glasshouse Mountains, this is just before the inhabited part of Bribie Island becomes National Park.

We left home in a flurry of bait and jackets and arrived just as the sun was setting. This is my favourite beach along Pumicestone Passage - a little more remote, a little closer to the Glasshouse Mountains, backed only by trees and then a line of houses, rather than the walkways, shops, playgrounds that are common closer to the bridge over to the mainland. While I am the first to respect provisioning of loos and playgrounds, it's nice to be in a place less bound. We cross four bridges to reach it, a fact that brings me more joy than you would think.

My Diva does not approve. Without other children or a playground, she declines to leave the comfort of the car. "Don't you want to get in touch with your inner mer-girl? Commune with your nature-spirit? Experience the wild and wonder?"
"No, mother. I am staying here."

She's over fishing. I suspect she'll take it up again later, but the sudden change to a fishing family has been too much for her. I, myself, am finding the constant odour of bait in the car, getting my hair tangled in hooks from rods crammed in the car, a bit trying. But getting the kids easily to the beach. Begging to be outdoors. Completely worth it. And the little girls are still young enough to find delight in sand and water and the birds that pass by.









"Look, mama, bait!" In six months my Giggle-Bear has developed into a fishing-girl. That isn't a ribbon she's holding - it's a long, red, worm, about to be hooked.



Mostly, I don't get the kids to pose. I let them do their thing and take photos - but every so often I do say 'Could you dance for me' - or 'leap' - 'just there, no at that spot there.'





The play of shadow and light, the sheen of the water and the smudging of the clouds doubled over in silken reflection is a delight. I wade into the water and a sting ray raises itself from the sand and glides off. Later, I wade in again, deeper, and the same stingray fluffs up the sand around itself, then, in a huff, glides away into the deep.



Dark comes, my Wild-Boy doesn't want to leave. "We've only just arrived! This is just the start of my fishing trip!'
"School tomorrow."
The stars are brilliant as we make our way up the treed slope to the car, and head back over the bridge towards home.

Saturday, June 2, 2018

Sunset



Sunset beside the sea is, almost by definition, a beautiful time. Aspects of air, water and fire combat in reflections of the setting sun across the sea and time hangs in cusp between day and night.

And then there are special days when the sunset is jaw droopingly spectacular and you don't want to look away as the sun and sea dance through their goodbye. Except of course kids are trying to drown themselves/each other, hook themselves on fishing rods and break their arms on flying foxes, handily situated close to shore.

We're seeing a lot of amazing sunsets-by-sea recently with my Wild-Boy's fishing fixation and I'm deeply grateful for the sunsets and all the wildlife that we see - rays and moray eels, dolphins and turtles have all made an appearance. As we head seawards as soon as my Beloved gets home from work and return as the kids are falling asleep a lot of stuff gets left undone and a lot of less than optimal stuff gets eaten, but I figure swings and roundabouts - we're building memories.

My magic-girl. Sea-fairy-Princess-Mermaid-Wizard.  I, of course am the ogre or the baby-eating giant in her complicated stories we need to act out.

 While her brother fishes she unpacks her treasures.

 Primed for attack.


I am always astonished anew at how beautiful Pumicestone Passage is in a slightly different light from a slightly different vantage. On that still eve, with that sheet of pink sheened silvered silk, it took a fairytale aspect.




Dance there upon the Shore... yes I've the type of mind that goes immediately to Yeats.

 And of course you need to show your unicorn the sunset.




When I've a bit more time and a few more photo shop skills I'll work at how to remove things like accidental boats sprouting from my baby's head. However, for now, I couldn't resist including this one for my Wonder-Girl's grin.


 My Wild-Boy fishing.
My Beloved. Also. Fishing, with the lights of the Bribie Island Bridge just coming out. 





Wednesday, May 16, 2018

Through the Trees


While the sea in all her moods will always have my heart, there's a lot to be said for shade in the heat of the day. A sandy path through mangroves - a habitat I've only recently become acquainted with, with many fallen trees to sit upon, coming across the odd branch-house, an interesting beatle - is a pleasant way to wander. 

 

 My Diva makes a belt out of a shell and a twisty-turny stick. At present her ambition is to be a fashion designer and move to New York. I'm sure we'll go through many changes, but I love seeing how her imagination works.



 There's something so mysterious about the mangroves - we're too far south for crocodiles - but the look like they should be here. I do think it would be a great setting for a mystery - with or without vampires, in the present or the past. It keeps tugging at me.



 My Wonder-Girl with her little vampire teeth from a fall when she was just learning to climb. She does have a Transylvanian great grandmother. No truly, she does!








Thursday, May 10, 2018

Along the Shore (and an exultation about present weather and whine about past weather!)






We started early(ish) took the dog, and walked along the shore to the river mouth. The tide was far out, but even the crabs are wusses in Queensland (with my husband and two kids being Queenslanders I'm calling it - the slightest pleasant briskness and they're moaning and whining) and it was too brisk and breezy for the usual legions of soldier crabs.
The light had a pleasant silver cast and the breeze was divine.
The cool(er) season approaches. O bliss. O yay. O thank God.
The kids are wrapping themselves in blankets to totter out of bed in the morning. This worries me for my plans to move somewhere with proper seasons - pronto. It will be sad to have to leave them behind. I may have to wait till they head off to uni. Hmm. How many (hot, hot) months away is that?
At present however, the weather is wonderful. I might even be able to wear a cardigan tomorrow! And a robe and ugg boots tonight.
I am even... wait for it... hoping to wear socks tomorrow. The world has few greater pleasures than socks after a looooong, hot, stinking, sweating, mouldering summer!









 There is a reason I am a touch anxious about the teen years. Of course, the older two think they're already in them!



Obviously she is a princess, taking one last glance back at her beloved kingdom... The landscape, particularly when there's a stretch of dead and silvered trunks piercing the sand, has a desolate, romantic quality reminiscent of fairytales of lost kindgdoms.