Last light and the dancing trees

We had a very early rise so the big lad and his mate could head off into the wilds on their first unchaperoned hiking and camping adventure. I should probably write this once they have returned but I trust this is a good forward call for anyone who might be in the general area of the Howqua Hills to start searching for them come Monday.

But if fate should befall us all (as she might) at least we can all say we had an amazing day.

Being a lazy artist and a lousy photographer I have not pursued the subject of the rising sun. But my son’s dogged efforts meant we all saw the sun make her slow rise this morning, carving a dark Mt Samaria into a cookie cutter shape against a milky sky. Beautiful!

We waved the lads off after they’d braved the leap across the ford at Chapel Hill Rd and headed toward the Howqua track. Where they would end up I could only trust would be Sheepyard Flat and within the coo-ee of other similarly minded folk.

Some parents may reel in horror (an inner city friend recently told me she wouldn’t let her daughter catch a train to go three stops for fear she might be randomly assaulted) but these lads are both over 6ft tall now and pretty level headed and how else are they going to encounter the planet?

We headed back to comparable comfort, got the fire going, went and had Devonshire tea, wondered if we should try and text them.

By early evening there were drifts of light rain and biting winds being fought back by a brave now west lying sun. 

The trees danced and the earth shone. There was a rainbow and a great wedge tail circling in the east. All good omens.

The boys called in. They’d set up the tent, had a fire going and we’re cooking some tea. They weren’t sure where they were but there was water and they were fine.

Yes we’d all had an amazing day.

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14 thoughts on “Last light and the dancing trees

  1. Always a big leap, both for parents and offspring. But as you say, they’re definitely large enough and apparently handy enough to survive at least tent-erecting and billy boiling… Well done on being sufficiently hands-off parents. In my childhood, we were doing this stuff at 10, waved off with our little swags and backpacks full of boiled eggs and lemonade. I came almost at the end of a long line of siblings, so perhaps my parents were merely weary of it all, but we came home safely, unstarved, undrowned and with the average childhood urge for pyromania satisfied by our little campfires.

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    • Hi Kate so glad to hear you’re on the mend and thanks for the affirmation. My childhood too was totally spent outside trekking miles and getting home for tea. I’m glad my son seems to have the same wanderlust although I’m sure that’s more down to watching Bear Grilles? than my genetic contribution 🙂

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      • Oh, it’s definitely a boy thing. In the UK, Bear Grylls is even bigger than he is here, but I always preferred Ray Mears, who had a gentler, more contemplative and much less gung ho appproach. From him, I actually learned a thing or two, but Bear’s passion for flinging himself into danger was a bit of a turn-off.

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      • Hi Kate – yes our lad grew up watching these shows in the UK – he also loved Deadly 60 with the UK’s answer to Steve Irwin. Even tonight on their way down from the mountain in the car they were talking about Bear Grylls (thanks for the spellcheck!) as I tease him that he’s really there with a film crew and a catering van so you have to take what you see with a pinch of salt!

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