Cottage Rock

We came back to Cottage Rock on Saturday, sailing in before the rain and wind began. Picked up a mooring and then rowed in to the little slip of yellow sand.

The two little waterfalls flowed coldly off the cliff, wildflowers flowered and a couple of Sydney Rock Warblers flew about. I approached the back side of Cottage Rock, where a long unbalanced step from a high rock covered with oysters - don't look down - a knotted rope and a fearless arm got me up on the steep slope of Cottage Rock at last.

There were orchids growing up there, and a great view of the bay, but the water was too shallow to jump into, so I climbed down again, exhilarated like a 14 year old.

We dared each other to swim, and the water was refreshingly cool, unlike the waterfalls where we showered afterwards. Delighted, we dived and splashed and whooped.

One of my favourite places in the world.

Lady in the Snow

My beautiful Auntie Margaret lives in Tasmania. She's not the lady in the snow, but one of mum's sisters. She married a forester and moved there in the 50s. In April it was her turn to host the family reunion.

I spent a week down there. At the family reunion, my cousin Sue was maliciously funny and a lot of young cousins fussed over their babies and toddlers. Before that I tooled about the island in a hire car, stayed in cheap pubs and motels, had a dip in Wine Glass Bay, and in the Huon Valley ate the most amazing apple of my life.

She was the Lady in the Snow, with the whitest flesh I'd ever seen, and crisp! She tasted of sherbet, of champagne, of Fruit Tingles™!

Lady in the Snow was but one of many beauties. If I'd grown up in Tassie, I reckon I wouldn't have waited until I was 29 years old to eat my first apple.

Spring back

Yesterday was a trailer for summer. A good one too: I got a real sense of what summer is about, but it didn't give anything away. Can't wait.

Today it's crisp and sunny. Jasmine's still out everywhere, freesias are amock, azaleas running riot, mock orange and wistaria just starting. Good times.

freesias amok.

Summer breeze

I stood by the pool at lunchtime, pretending to stretch but really just basking in the sun, enjoying the warm breeze and listening to someone play "Torna a Surriento" on the piano that they left there after a Festival of Sydney a few years ago, while in the next lane a Greek god in speedoes adjusted his goggles.

These moments don't go anywhere, but moments don't need to.