In February we spent ten days at Mystery Bay on the New South Wales far south coast. It’s a beautiful area and I found writing there very pleasurable. Here’s an evening image taken from the cottage we stayed in.
A poem that resulted:
the little ones
a flock of tight knots -
brown gerygones
drubbing on lathes of the decking
like rubber bullets ricochetinglittle fists of children
each vector of forces
arriving and then leaving
the verandah emptynot as it was
before they came
but changed, a stagewhereon the piece took place
and the little ones
moved on
And I find the image below a very hopeful one – approaching a rise on an open track, a soulful lifting and sense of space. The black cockatoos love this area, swaying in the banksias and strafing in flocks. Near the headland north of Mystery Bay, on the way to Corunna Lake.
