I like surprises and last week I surprised my daughter, Kirstie and arrived to knock at her door in Tasmania. Only two weeks prior, Stephen and I had made a sudden decision to make the trip to Tarraleah. How exciting it was to knock on the door to her apartment well after all other guests had checked in for the night. Believing that it was a late guest she opened the door tentatively to see us standing there. Tears and hugs all round. What a greeting. A greeting that showed me that all of the secret planning had been well worth it. It was a visit of firsts in that we made the walk to discover the newly created forest site for weddings. A site in its bush setting under a canopy of trees. Ferns and wild flowers grew beside the bush track leading to the forest chapel. I could imagine excited future wedding guests and bridal parties making the same walk.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Surprise visit ...
I like surprises and last week I surprised my daughter, Kirstie and arrived to knock at her door in Tasmania. Only two weeks prior, Stephen and I had made a sudden decision to make the trip to Tarraleah. How exciting it was to knock on the door to her apartment well after all other guests had checked in for the night. Believing that it was a late guest she opened the door tentatively to see us standing there. Tears and hugs all round. What a greeting. A greeting that showed me that all of the secret planning had been well worth it. It was a visit of firsts in that we made the walk to discover the newly created forest site for weddings. A site in its bush setting under a canopy of trees. Ferns and wild flowers grew beside the bush track leading to the forest chapel. I could imagine excited future wedding guests and bridal parties making the same walk.
Thirty-six Panes of Glass
Thoughts, not bound by doors, walls or roads, took me back to the recently visited estate overlooking the harbour. The homestead hedged and gardened with lawns sweeping across the cliff top, jarred the historic relic to times past. Was it secretly yearning to connect with an uncertain future?
Haunting sobs from the upstairs bedroom reminded one that real, living people once walked its hallways and scampered across the grass and pathways braced against the wind's biting tongues.
Had the sheep grazing in the distance noticed Julian's mother slipping into the garden? Still chiding herself that so simple a pleasure could end in tragedy.
Silently now, she stood and gathered her cloak to her cheeks. Her cheeks revealed her anguish. Tears shed wearily would not change the cold hard earth that embraced Julian. The white marble headstone etched with few details to explain the laughter, life and energy now lost. Two years, eleven months and fourteen days. The little hands and face that so trusted a much loved hound, silenced.
Grim reminders that life goes on. The children returned from their morning lessons.
Overhead a seagull cried. Eyes sought the here and now. Once again the blue scape craved attention. The past forgotten. Yellow sands called.
Yellow sand rimmed the bay. Rocks balanced and stacked to protect the shore. Footfalls left no trace. Shells crackled and shattered with every step. Matted brown, seaweed clumps carpeted the edge of the tidal litter. Skeletons of tiny crabs dotted the surface.
A parched stick of driftwood upended one corpse. No visible signs to show reasons for its demise, to justify its fate. Along with numerous others they lay, some face down while others suggested preparedness to scuttle at a moment's notice.
Sun broke through the cloud. For the first time there was a realisation that the sand was the brightest white. Not yellow. Cloud cover deceived perception. Warming strides invited further passage.
Stones rounded and smooth sparked in the growing sunlight. Bending to grasp a small black stone; a stone that had presented itself. It appeared to be pasted with glitter by an unknown hand. Over one shoulder we looked back, the nut rose. Its strength obvious. Its girth bold. There was no comparison between the two.
The silence and warmth of the walk was enjoyed by my companion and I. Not remarkable but invigorated by the shared activity.
Suddenly and unexpectedly from a sandy side track a couple emerged. Hands in pockets, hooded heads hastened towards us. Perhaps their daily ritual? There was a familiarity in their task. A small yappy dog was unleashed. It ran in circles along the sand. The white sands could not compete. We withdrew. The magic broken.
Returned to those thirty-six panes of glass coffee was poured. Sun showers drifted along the bay. Tiny droplets gave way to splashes of rain that licked the glass. Warming coffee sipped and once again there was a reacquaintance with the vista.
Gathered thoughts. The cycle repeated. Imagined journeys ...Sometime during that cycle one submitted to human elements. Eating, drinking, dining, partaking, all acknowledged the basic need of man to consume food. Food chosen or selected from a plethora of options. Intermission scheduled and concluded.
Satiated we returned to the window.
Night replaced day. Stars replaced the sun as one sat by those thirty-six panes of glass. Bay lights twinkled more brightly than the stars. Red and green buoys instructed water craft to safest journeys. No moon shone.
Movement below. A tuxedo dressed fairy. Had I daydreamed from day to night? No blurred blue horizon. Jack blackness where the street lamps lights failed to illuminate the ground between the land and the sea.
Strained eyes stared into the gloom. One little fairy, tentative in its evening's feeding darted in and out of my view. Seated quietly by the windows one couldn't help but will it, one little fairy, to move closer to the arc of light.
Surely nervous of predators or man had cautioned its movements. Dim light prevented accurate tracking. Imagined loneliness in its solitary feeding habit too soon it vanished. One little fairy left. It had moved on. I had wanted more from our brief encounter.
A plover called below. It was not a fairy. I had guessed wrong. I had imagined a relationship with a fanciful creature. Unexpected. Disappointed. I left that window.
Timed meetings. Timed relationships. Some longer than others. Closure. I left those thirty-six panes of glass.
Time to explore new vistas. Time to sleep. Tie to dream.
Awakened and compelled to search glass panes once more. Looking skyward and to the horizon. Shades of grey painted both clouds and sea.
I had a duty to sit and watch. Glass so easily shatters. Take care. Be selective in what you choose to view.
Tarraleah - It Came Again Last Night
Our cottage was nestled on the escarpment with views to the mountains opposite. Five symmetrical, silver pipes hugged the very edge of the mountains until they disappeared from sight. Strong and steadfast, their purpose to serve the valley below and those who lived beyond its reaches.
The warmth of the fire had filled the cottage and provided a welcoming atmosphere. Unpacking was hurried. Bedrooms chosen for their views. Provisions stored and refrigerated. It was time to explore the village.
Rain fell but it did not daunt the eager tourist. The rental was parked and my companion and I dodged the first drops of rain. Village pubs have their own unique charm and this was the case with the Highlander. Polished timber floors, subtle overhead light fixtures with lamps placed in strategic locations.
Chairs and lounges designated conversation hubs for guests. A log fire set to divide the room understood its dual role. Quietly and efficiently its glow and flickering flames ensured the traveller that they were invited to take their time and enjoy this space.
Stools lined the bar but none were occupied for guests had already begun to reserve the comfy lounges. Drink orders taken and filled; the friendly wait staff ensured that nothing intruded on the harmony. Each group relaxed, unwound, were prepared to linger over their pre-dinner drinks.
Somewhere Chef was prepping for the soon to be sought restaurant orders. No need to rush as one surveyed the seated guests, none pressed for menus or dinner orders yet. The wait staff had read guests well and appreciated that no diners were impatient for dinner.
One gentleman read his paper by a lamp near the window while his wife completed her crossword. No conversation or banter disrupted each from their task. White wine was sipped and beer savoured.
Another couple seated themselves at the far end of the bar away from the door. The male had chosen a beer. The woman seated beside him was distracted from her glass of red while she sat attending to an electronic device dressed in its leather jacket. She tapped icons and screen opened in rapid succession before the red wallet passed between them.
In the exchange, the outside world returned. Upon entry to the pub it had been raining.
A delighted cry, "I think it is snowing!"
Roused, the companion looked up from the on screen text to check the snow claim. He had been too quick to judge, for a flurry of flakes had indeed passed the windows.
Interest piqued, the last of the red wine was finished hurriedly. The couple rose to leave. Snow was an obvious highlight as afternoon slipped towards evening. As warm and cosy was the pub it could not compete with the draw of the snow.
Outside, flurries of snowflakes landed on scarves and wraps. The pair excited by the prospect of snow now determined to partake of its character. The flakes were unexpectedly large and clearly visible against the background of the blue jacket. Not offended by the arrival of snow they seemed to share a common need to celebrate its appearance. Oblivious to the temperature they walked slowly to the car savouring the event.
With few streets or roads to pass the cottage option was chosen with vistas in mind. However, the snow had provided a new dimension to the stay. Vistas would be replaced and lost in the snow's blanket.
Within the cottage the lounge area had been positioned appropriately. Large expanses of glass windows allowed the couple to watch the snow. Snow that they had just walked in as they made their way to the parked car and then from the pub, back to the rented cottage.
It was a cottage of generous proportions for it housed two master bedrooms and another, a single room off the sun verandah. A dining room and full kitchen facilities ensured that guests could choose between restaurant and home style meals as desired.
An outside picnic table dominated the yard's attention but it was not required on this occasion for the snow had diverted guests inside. Banter suggested the likelihood of further overnight falls.
One guest woke to crystal clear skies. Orion's belt steadfast in the sky above, momentarily disappointed, one guest in particular. She had woken and crept to the lounge to capture a secret viewing of the much anticipated snow falls.
She had not fully understood the pattern of nature in this area. For has she known she would have realised that the stars were only brief visitors throughout the night.
The lounge's log fire insisted on further refuelling. It was restocked and the guest sat to wait and to watch. Large pillows cushioned the wait and soon the voyeur slept unaware that more snow was falling. Snow fell across the valley. In another room, her companion slept heavily. His pattern of snoring indicated that he could slumber knowing that he would see the snow later. There was still time to sleep.
Morning light brought solver white clouds sweeping across the valley. Peaks disappeared and reappeared. At times the hillside was draped in curtains of snow. Silhouetted sun struggled to banish the flakes that had gathered on the lawns. Lawns that were dotted and edged with brilliant, yellow daffodils.
Village pavements were damp but accustomed to the changeable weather so an easy stroll to the Teez Cafe was deemed fit but first a wonder up past the lodge before circling back to partake of breakfast.
Others had already eaten or ordered breakfast as my companion and I entered. A fireside table beckoned.
From the table diners scrutinised the newly hung pictures. Pictures that claimed wall space reflected local history and someone's sense of humour.
A personal favourite, a lady clad in fashions from times past, studying closely, a manual, explaining unfamiliar technology.
The warmth of the fire had filled the cottage and provided a welcoming atmosphere. Unpacking was hurried. Bedrooms chosen for their views. Provisions stored and refrigerated. It was time to explore the village.
Rain fell but it did not daunt the eager tourist. The rental was parked and my companion and I dodged the first drops of rain. Village pubs have their own unique charm and this was the case with the Highlander. Polished timber floors, subtle overhead light fixtures with lamps placed in strategic locations.
Chairs and lounges designated conversation hubs for guests. A log fire set to divide the room understood its dual role. Quietly and efficiently its glow and flickering flames ensured the traveller that they were invited to take their time and enjoy this space.
Stools lined the bar but none were occupied for guests had already begun to reserve the comfy lounges. Drink orders taken and filled; the friendly wait staff ensured that nothing intruded on the harmony. Each group relaxed, unwound, were prepared to linger over their pre-dinner drinks.
Somewhere Chef was prepping for the soon to be sought restaurant orders. No need to rush as one surveyed the seated guests, none pressed for menus or dinner orders yet. The wait staff had read guests well and appreciated that no diners were impatient for dinner.
One gentleman read his paper by a lamp near the window while his wife completed her crossword. No conversation or banter disrupted each from their task. White wine was sipped and beer savoured.
Another couple seated themselves at the far end of the bar away from the door. The male had chosen a beer. The woman seated beside him was distracted from her glass of red while she sat attending to an electronic device dressed in its leather jacket. She tapped icons and screen opened in rapid succession before the red wallet passed between them.
In the exchange, the outside world returned. Upon entry to the pub it had been raining.
A delighted cry, "I think it is snowing!"
Roused, the companion looked up from the on screen text to check the snow claim. He had been too quick to judge, for a flurry of flakes had indeed passed the windows.
Interest piqued, the last of the red wine was finished hurriedly. The couple rose to leave. Snow was an obvious highlight as afternoon slipped towards evening. As warm and cosy was the pub it could not compete with the draw of the snow.
Outside, flurries of snowflakes landed on scarves and wraps. The pair excited by the prospect of snow now determined to partake of its character. The flakes were unexpectedly large and clearly visible against the background of the blue jacket. Not offended by the arrival of snow they seemed to share a common need to celebrate its appearance. Oblivious to the temperature they walked slowly to the car savouring the event.
With few streets or roads to pass the cottage option was chosen with vistas in mind. However, the snow had provided a new dimension to the stay. Vistas would be replaced and lost in the snow's blanket.
Within the cottage the lounge area had been positioned appropriately. Large expanses of glass windows allowed the couple to watch the snow. Snow that they had just walked in as they made their way to the parked car and then from the pub, back to the rented cottage.
It was a cottage of generous proportions for it housed two master bedrooms and another, a single room off the sun verandah. A dining room and full kitchen facilities ensured that guests could choose between restaurant and home style meals as desired.
An outside picnic table dominated the yard's attention but it was not required on this occasion for the snow had diverted guests inside. Banter suggested the likelihood of further overnight falls.
One guest woke to crystal clear skies. Orion's belt steadfast in the sky above, momentarily disappointed, one guest in particular. She had woken and crept to the lounge to capture a secret viewing of the much anticipated snow falls.
She had not fully understood the pattern of nature in this area. For has she known she would have realised that the stars were only brief visitors throughout the night.
The lounge's log fire insisted on further refuelling. It was restocked and the guest sat to wait and to watch. Large pillows cushioned the wait and soon the voyeur slept unaware that more snow was falling. Snow fell across the valley. In another room, her companion slept heavily. His pattern of snoring indicated that he could slumber knowing that he would see the snow later. There was still time to sleep.
Morning light brought solver white clouds sweeping across the valley. Peaks disappeared and reappeared. At times the hillside was draped in curtains of snow. Silhouetted sun struggled to banish the flakes that had gathered on the lawns. Lawns that were dotted and edged with brilliant, yellow daffodils.
Village pavements were damp but accustomed to the changeable weather so an easy stroll to the Teez Cafe was deemed fit but first a wonder up past the lodge before circling back to partake of breakfast.
Others had already eaten or ordered breakfast as my companion and I entered. A fireside table beckoned.
From the table diners scrutinised the newly hung pictures. Pictures that claimed wall space reflected local history and someone's sense of humour.A personal favourite, a lady clad in fashions from times past, studying closely, a manual, explaining unfamiliar technology.
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