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Weekend – Small Island Style

Barefoot I wander along a familiar crescent of sand. There’s noone else around. The air is warm, the waves lapping calmly on this windless day and above is our wide blue Australian sky.

I lay my striped beach towel under a tree providing dappled shade, and line my towel up so my head will be in the shade and my body in the warm Queensland sun. As I read, an eagle hovers above the tree and wafts off again, spreadeagled in the blue.

I lie there listening to the tweets, songs, screeches, choral choruses and mating calls of birds, hearing the subtle crackle and clicks of the little creatures in the mud left by the outgoing tide. I’m always struck by the raw natural beauty of my island as I read by the sea basking in light.

A chorus of kookaburras have started up outside my window as I write this. I am very grateful for this wonderful life.

 

 

 

 

 

Light and water patterns … barge traveller

Being outside instead of being locked inside a car, bus, ferry or train, is pretty special … it takes just 20 minutes to cross the ditch between Coochiemudlo Island and Victoria Point Jetty but for that moment we are a million miles from care. Flooded with beauty we just stare, grateful to be Coochiemudlians, Queenslanders, Australian.

Our spectacular commute

This morning I commuted across the bay on the Amity Trader barge, just for the joy of being under this glorious sky and closer to the water. Such beauty!

Women weaving magic

Last Sunday a friend invited me to her weaving workshop. After my Sunday sleep in I wandered to her street and opened her gate. Her yard is not grass, it’s a ramblers heaven with a bark strewn winding path that takes me past a chook house to her door.

I spot her wild pineapples growing. Amazing sculptural plants – she just puts the heads of pineapples when she is finished with eating them, in the garden, no drama or big deal just places them in some dirt and look what grows! Amazing. I am going to try this at home.

Upstairs in my friend’s cottage I join a small group of women in a gentle space used only for weaving and yoga classes. Over coffee we’re coached in wrangling and weaving island vines and found objects into baskets of wild beauty.

I find it hard to understand the weaving technique from my friend’s demonstration because I learn by doing. My middle aged eyes in my reading glasses (ready for my close up weaving work) are also struggling in the low lit room to see what her fast fingers are doing. Yet with a bit of coaching from the women I pick it up, and begin weaving vine through the ribs of my basket.

It strikes me later that the process of building the frame or ribs of the basket and then consciously, carefully weaving it’s body into place, is somewhat like what I am attempting to do as a childless single woman. I am trying to consciously create a life for myself out of the bare bones of my life (work, home, repeat), in a way that women with children do not seem to have to do. They seem to work, go home, repeat but also have a rich textured deeply layered family life that softens and comforts and adds flesh to their bare bones. At least that is how it seems when viewed from the outside. My existence seems thinner. Barer somehow. Like I am more ribs or bones than soft skin, breath and tender textures. We childless ones have to very consciously weave magic into the bones of our lives just as I am weaving this vine onto the ribs of my basket. I am consciously, carefully, as I weave, as I live, making adjustments when plans don’t work out, taking beauty where I find it and finding ways to fill the gaps.

We pause for a hearty lunch of potato and leek soup with pumpkin bread, then continue our alchemy.

My basket is weaved from cat’s claw growing wild on my island and an old orange fishing net crusted with shells and coral.  Lilybelle my island cat thinks it will make a very cosy cat bed!

 

Join me for my full moon commute

Tonight I crossed the sea after a big day at work and filmed for you my full bodied moon hanging in a black sky over a black sea. Although there is not a lot of light in this video other than the moon, I wanted to give you a glimpse of my evening commute following the moon home.  In this little video you’ll hear me talking to you and the clomp! clomp! of my winter boots (it’s cool here now and it is raining today). I am quite obsessed with my moon. I have never felt so attached to the moon until I lived on this island and it greeted me so surprisingly each month – I don’t know why I can never remember it’s about to be a full moon but it is always a gorgeous surprise when my car comes over a hill towards the bay and there it is hanging there so large and round and other worldly in comparison to our straight long streets, boxy buildings and boxy cars. It glows in its roundness. In its difference. I love to see it hanging bright above the traffic lights and outshining the tall jetty lights that I call industrial sunflowers. As our ferry follows the silver sea to the island I feel blessed.

 

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