Well it is all over for another year. Merry Christmas. Such a lot of fun and a lot of money spent for just one special day of the year that is a special birthday, celebrated on the wrong day. But... I do love Christmas.
Sunday Scribblings has given us the word prompt "Delicious" to write on this week.
Yesterday we drove down the mountain, running away from home for just a short break. Sometimes, just sometimes we have the opportunity to quench our cravings.
The craving for the sea, the spectacular scenery of the unspoiled bush, those smells and colors, ahhhh yes. Delicious.
Down the Clyde mountain turning north away from Bateman's Bay and the worst of the holiday crowds and mad traffic. We found accommodation easily which was lucky for this time of year when there is a mass exodus from the city to the coast. We drove to South Durras, to a van park set between the lake and the sea, an eco tourism park where there are Roos and birds everywhere. Just a few meters across the sand dune and you are on the beach.
I love it.
To the hot sun warming your back and the salty fresh smell of the Tasman sea as waves send mist back across the beach filling the senses with smell, sound, colour.
That fantastic transparent pale aqua blue, deepening to clear green, graduating to blue green and in the distance dark dark navy blue gray. The magic curl as waves crest then tumble, frothy white as they break and rush towards the edge of the land.
I walk down through the soft foot mark pocked sand. Down to the edge where the waves change the color of the sand and it becomes cool on my bare feet and firm to walk on, then onwards.
Just a few feet more. Here it comes, here, closer, closer then... the delicious cool rush of the sea water as it reaches my feet. That first touch catches my breath and puts a smile a mile wide across my face. Then the waves dizzying rush back to rejoin the sea and I have to stand still for a moment, face the water and watch to regain my balance.
We sit down and absorb it all for a while with Pete's head resting on my lap, his shirt pulled up to get the warm sun to heal his scars. I make him a back rest out of sand and he sleeps for a while until a friendly black dog runs up to check on him and see if he is o.k. and he is woken with a start.
I wander and I dare each breaking wave to reach me, until my feet don't feel hot and the water doesn't feel cold anymore.
The sea and the beach making children of the best of us.
I see a pretty young woman playing as if nobody can see her, alone, kicking the sand , marching, kicking her legs high through the tumbling water, until she looks up and notices me then she walks on embarrassed, sensible, self conscious again. Parents playing with their children laughing with them, children again.
Looking at the seaweed washing up in small clumps, looking at the tiny shells along the line where the rushing waves change the color of the sand with their wetness. Exploring the flotsam and jetsam, a blue bottle, a jelly blubber a bit of wood here, an old thong, feathers, seed pods.
South Durras is a big open beach, not a tiny bay beach and I walk along to see if the entrance to the lake is open to the sea, it was several years ago and it was so deep I couldn't walk across it, but it is now closed by a sand bank and the lake has dwindled away to a series of shallow ponds.
There is a man here playing with his airfoil kite, probably his christmas present. He makes it dip and swoop low then high up into the sky again, he has quite an audience. You can see his kite above the beach from one end to the other. Flying like a big blue series of curved, air filled pillows joined together.
There are families returning to their cars. It is starting to get late as they take the children back to their accommodation to feed and bathe and put them to bed. They straggle slowly, reluctantly, back along the waterline. Adults carrying an assortment of fishing rods, towels, boards, toys. The children still running and exploring along the way. Picking up sticks and throwing them back into the water, drawing with their feet and fingers in the sand then running to catch up to the adults. A little girl is grizzling, in the hope that her Dad will pick her up and carry her across his hip, or better still, sling her across his shoulders to save her tired little legs from going any further.
The sky is partly clad in light wispy clouds and back towards the mountains heavier more threatening gray cloud is approaching. Out over the sea the setting sun is coloring some light clouds with pink and orange. So pretty, and the sea is beginning to darken towards night. Cyclone Laurence far, far to the north of the continent is sending magic. Much traveled, much needed rain, to wash our world clean and cool the summer heated air in our southern states. Keep it coming Laurie. In the north of the state there are floods, but not here. We want the cool rain to water the earth and fill the dams.
We leave the beach and walk the short distance back to the cabin we have rented for the night. Our legs tired and dragging through the heavy soft sand that covers the dune. There is a small mob of Roos in the park now, grazing on the short cropped grass, they don't take much notice of us as we pass by, they are used to being around people and know they will not be harmed here. The cheeky, colorful little rainbow lorikeets are coming into the trees around us to roost for the night and are fluttering noisily before settling. A whip bird is calling somewhere but I can't spot him. Wattle birds, crimson rosellas, top knot pigeons, king parrots, currawongs, magpies. There is a family of wood ducks and later I see a possum near the amenities block on my way to the showers. Some children are still zipping around the park in the half dark, on their scooters and bikes. Some young teens have a meeting near the camp kitchen, talking loud, giggling and flirting, showing off for each other. And the world turns.
We drove home today, north, along the coast road, exploring some of the little side roads along the way. Forests, cliffs, light houses, beaches. Then up through the escarpment into the Kangaroo valley where we dawdled through the little craft shops and assorted galleries, real touristy stuff. We drove through wet misty clouds near Cambewarra mountain. The rain forest. Beautiful, green and lush. Then back to the Hume highway, onto the federal highway and back here to Canberra. A delicious round trip. To quench our cravings for little while.
And....I forgot my camera.