11 September 2013
It
began with getting lost on the way to Mindil Beach. For a start I headed in the
wrong direction but with the aid of my Navigator app I found myself on the edge
of the Arafura Sea. I love seas – love their flatness, ripples and tiny waves
which plop. The tide was in. Oceans are another thing entirely all slap-bang
and I will eat you waves. An inland born girl I prefer calm water. I didn’t
stay long and my thirty minutes to get there walk turned into an eight minute
return, past the old cemetery with Chinese headstones facing the sunrise and
through the gardens to the George Brown Eco House.
Did
some bird spotting on behalf of my bird mad friend, visit her blog, http://robbiesbackyard.blogspot.com.au/. Sent her a
list of birds I saw without even trying: magpie geese, Torres Strait pigeons,
double barred finches, peaceful doves, ibis, brahminy kites. Asked myself the
question why didn’t I bring my bird book?
I
received an invitation for dinner at Stokes Hill Wharf with poet, Kaye
Aldenhover, http://www.presspress.com.au/Aldenhoven.html and her
friend Bronwyn Mehan an ex Darwinite and owner of Spineless Wonders Press http://shortaustralianstories.com.au/.
Stokes
Hill Wharf is a popular eating spot for the locals (human species), whiskered terns
and silver gulls (airborne species), moonfish and barramundi (waterborne
species). It is the best arrangement for these three species to share food,
humans at tables at the edge of the wharf, birds patrolling the airspace, and
fish below keeping an eye upward for any food which may fall, occasionally
lifting a fin out of the water to make a splash.
Our
happy party ate delicious Thai food and drank champagne as the sun set. This
was my second sunset dinner and I am thinking I would try and make this a tradition
while I am here. Members of our party were eating our choice of icecream and feeling
pleasantly satisfied with our lot until an orange glow on the horizon was
pointed out as The Detention Centre. It looked like its own mini setting sun and
it sucked something out of the evening, stole something from the fun of eating
in the outdoors watching the flight and glide of fish and birds. The choice of
icecream became a little sour knowing that across the other side of the bay
there was a group of people who had no choice. No choice in their own country
for freedom. No choice but to flee. No choice but to risk all.
As
we left I couldn’t help but think this shameful glow will be there tomorrow and
tomorrow and tomorrow.
And
how did I sleep? I know you want to know. It was fine apart from the 2am
gunfire…gunfire!!! Fire crackers left over from Territory day in July the
locals assure me — not a midnight gunfight.
I don’t go to
the beach often.
It is not my
place.
The salt in me is lake not sea.
The birds in me are black not white.
There is flame in me not wave.
The sound in me is still.
The salt in me is lake not sea.
The birds in me are black not white.
There is flame in me not wave.
The sound in me is still.
from
Descended From Thieves
Coral Carter
Mulla Mulla
Press 2012
I
went to a garden full of colour and light and water and bronzes of naked women
kneeling and reclining and one holding both legs to her breasts exposing her
cunt to fecundity all round. There were walkways of roses, wisteria, plum
trees, orchards of citrus rotting, avocados hung like sinister black baubles,
the garden shed with stained glass windows and chandelier, poppies filled to
the brim with bees, pansies irises, violets, roses, nasturtiums, clematis,
clouds of white camellias, stairs and seats and lily ponds, red rose avenues to
fountains with a view as purple and orange push into the dried yellow dull
green of the summer eucalyptus forest. Guests waved their free hand to explain
the property extends to those trees over there. They bought that block too for
privacy. And that is the dam. All the water is pumped from there to the lily
ponds and look they are building a gallery for their collection. The workmen
have the day off.
In this garden of prosperity and good fortune we drank champagne and exclaimed how blue is the sky and how perfect the day.
In this garden of prosperity and good fortune we drank champagne and exclaimed how blue is the sky and how perfect the day.
yes
we
are privileged
yes
we
are lucky
raise
up your glasses
because
out in the ocean
the
cold deep ocean
the
far away ocean
some
of us flounder
some
of us founder
and
some us of drown
from
Descended From Thieves
Coral Carter
Mulla Mulla Press 2012
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