Leaves fall from the trees as I drive. The light wind shakes the dead ones form the trees. They fall to the ground in whirls and swirls and look like Autumn snowflakes in Australia. The radio is off as I drive but the tune from Georgia by Vance Joy plays in my mind. It is the perfect song for my midday adventure. I haven’t eaten since my…creative over-night oats this morning and I haven’t packed lunch but my mind isn’t on my stomach or food (a shock). I am on a mission. An adventure.
The sun plays hide and seek with the world through the clouds and I am feeling just as playful. I decided to leave the house and explore. The thought of staying at home until 3 repulsed me. I only walked aimlessly around, cleaning and tidying things that really didn’t need to be cleaned or tidied. I didn’t want to go far because my hours today are limited, I was happy to keep it local.
With my old camera full of new batteries safely around my neck, and a summer dress on with a light button down shirt to go over the top I eagerly snap photos at my first destination, and quite possibly the place I will get married. Wirreanda Park is just up the road from my house and I pass by it very often. The history is really beautiful; you have to check it out.
The massive trunks twist in magical ways. I take photos of a tree that has rotted a little. I feel small and insignificant next to nature’s works of art, because I know their history I know that they have been sinking their roots into the ground since 1903. How can anyone feel superior to such a well-aged creation? As I take photos road side, a man in a car playing loud music yells out to me, ‘oh yeah, take that photo’. The car behind him beeps their horn because the light has turned green and he hasn’t moved. I smile to myself, not fond of being hit on distastefully.
There is a couple sitting on one of the old wooden park chairs under the shade of the Weeping Figs. They are leaning in close and talking about something privet. I ignore them easily as I look around and take in the beauty of the towering trees and how the sunlights up the leaves above me. The girl calls out and I turn to see her smiling at me. Her lover has his head bowed, he is a quiet soul, I can tell. I didn’t hear her properly and beg my pardon. She isn’t beautiful in a conventional way, neither is the boy, but I can see their beauty. We talk and I tell her that I am writing a blog to challenge myself. They seem to like that. The girl asks if I want to photograph them, she is shy about it but she wants to be helpful. My heart races with excitement. This is my chance to experiment with my photography further; I have never photographed people before. I am about to accept with a sea full of ‘thank you’s’ but the boy doesn’t look as sure as the girl. My intention isn’t to provoke fear or discomfort, so I kindly decline. We part, I get in my little car and drive to my next destination.
I try not to get fully caught up in the lush scenery as I drive, I have gone into a state before while driving and narrowly missed an oncoming car. I can easily get distracted by the beauty of the world around me, sometimes when driving. Often I am so intense while driving with my complete focus on the road, especially when little ones are in my care. I rush out of my car when I get to Buderim Rainforest Walk my bag and camera over my should and around my neck. I have to double back and lock the car. My mum and her husband had their reception at the restaurant here, so I take photos of the old, wooden structure hidden by trees and other greenery.
There are three elderly people walking along the wooden walk that winds through the forest so I peacefully trail after them. I stop and take photos, taking my time looking around for my own pleasure and to capture. The aged man keeps looking back at me and I wonder what I look like to them, to people around me. Do I look like a experienced photographer? Do I look like a girl who should still be in high school? I don’t really care. I just smile and continue to get lost.
Few butterflies pass in front of me in a flurry, always seeming to be late…like the Hare in Alice in Wonderland. I ignore the mosquitos when I pause to take photos of small waterfalls. I pause often, not just to take photos but to close my eyes and listen to the sounds around me. Mostly I hear water rushing and trickling over and around rocks, the occasional bird singing, and the rustling of the leaves as they move in the wind.
My trip has been pretty structured up until now, I take a breath and soon the wooden trail turns to dirt. Tree roots snake along the ground and trip me up when I am not watching where I am going. I know this path well but I pretend that I am lost anyway, it feels better that way. Moss grows on everything, fallen and rotting trees, rocks and roots. I delight in the dragonflies that circle at my ankles and even the shirtless guy who smiles at me as we pass each other. A pain of longing hits my chest, not because I want that particular man but because I miss that kind of masculine energy in my life, the special kind of comfort that only the boy you adore can give you.
I sweat as I take the last photos. The big waterfall towers over me and on impulse I remove my over shirt and place it on top of my shoulder bag and camera and stand under the down pore. I can’t help but laugh out loud into the empty world around me. I am alone, but I don’t mind. I am alone, but peaceful. I am alone, but not lonely.
‘We do not remember days, we remember moments.’~ Cesare Pavese.
So, please forgive me because I cannot put into words or photos how magical my adventure was yesterday. I cannot give you the earthy smell, the way the sun came through the trees and flashed in my eyes like a camera flash as I walked, I can’t convey how kind the people I met were, or how the lizards and birds seemed so much more surreal when they knew I was watching them. And forgive me for this long post.
I’ll leave you with some snaps.