The acorn

By Vita Forest

On that first day

In the gardens of the Imperial Palace

(In the part that you can visit

If you are ordinary

And not royal)

Lucy found an acorn on the pathway

Gleaming in the rain

We looked around but could not see

Totoro

Perhaps he was atop one of the lush leafy trees

That dripped rain onto the soft grass

and the beds of thickly-planted iris

Perhaps he still had his wide black umbrella

And did not need our smaller paler shelters

Translucent as raindrops

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This week

By Vita Forest

Castle Cove

This week I have been

WRITING a short story, some poems, a Maths program and a bit of my novel

READING up on Japan

WATCHING a Harry Potter marathon with Lucy

Towards Castle Cove from the Harold Reid Foreshore Track, Middle Cove

EXPLORING part of Willoughby on a few sections of the Round Willoughby Walk with Lucy.  We managed 19km! and

Castlecrag

TESTING to see if some borrowed hiking shoes will do the job (they will)

Middle Cove

CLIMBING the equivalent of 110 stories as we marched up and down headlands, cliffs and hills on many many stairs and

Castlecrag from Middle Cove

ADMIRING many lovely views and

Can you see the wrecks in the bay?

SPOTTING the wrecks of old boats in Salt Pan Creek and

A lyrebird! Right there!

SEEING lots of birds – wrens, magpies, lorrikeets and other parrots and even a  lyrebird in suburban Sydney and

NOTICING many many plants – ferns, wattle and other native plants in flower

ATTENDING

  • a Poetry Workshop
  • a Weaving with Weeds Workshop with Briony and making a basket out of green waste

VISITING the Maritime Museum to see the Wildlife Photographer of the Year Exhibition with my parents and children

CHOREOGRAPHING a class item for next term

RIDING my bike

This week

By Vita Forest

This week I have been

WRITING

DISCUSSING our writing and having a good laugh with my Writers’ Circle pals

READING

  • Nevermoor by Jessica Townsend
  • Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger

CATCHING up with all sorts of friends during the school holidays – lovely to see you all!

SKETCHING at Carriageworks and enjoying the warmth of the winter sunshine

DOING a whole bunch of ‘Life Admin’ chores

VISITING

  • Manly with Briony
  • Carriageworks, Redfern

INDULGING in a few mornings of sleeping in

This week

By Vita Forest

This week I have been

WRITING school reports!

READING

  • Everyone Brave is Forgiven by Chris Cleave
  • A Year of Marvellous Ways by Sarah Winman

VISITING Culburra  for the long weekend with Sui-Sui and Alessandro where we went

EXPLORING Nowra and touring beautiful old Meroogal

STOPPING for a drink at the fabulous Steampunk Dog and Monocle in downtown Nowra

COOKING up a storm at the beach house in Culburra

MOTORING up to Gerringong for a burger and chips and

MEETING up with Betty and Bob  who had the same idea!

EXPLORING

  • Crookhaven Head
  • Callala Beach
  • Currarong

STOPPING into lovely Kiama on the way home and seeing dolphins, a stingray and a rainbow.

This week

By Vita Forest

This week I have been

READING The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman (but only a little bit because I have been)

WRITING

VISITING

  • The Grounds of the City with Max and Lucy (Steampunk meets Fantastic Beasts Oh and the food was delicious!)
  • The Anzac Bridge on Anzac Day (Lucy and I (and Max and Briony for a bit) walked from St Leonards to Rozelle following part of the route of The 7 Bridges walk with a few adjustments.
  • lovely work colleagues and ex-colleagues.
  • Gelateria Gondola for the most sensational choc-orange gelato…

WATCHING

  • The Guernsey Literary and Potato Pie Society with Betty (very lovely).
  • Sami in Paradise at Belvoir St Theatre (it’s been a while since I’ve seen something from this fantastic company – absolutely brilliant!)

ATTENDING an Open Mic Night with my Writers’ Circle group (we all read from our novels) and Sui-Sui and Alessandro.  Very inspiring!

SEWING costumes

GETTING ready to return to school tomorrow…

This week

By Vita Forest

This week I have been

READING The Amber Spyglass  by Philip Pullman (I cannot recommend this trilogy enough!)

WRITING, WRITING, WRITING

VISITING

  • Op shops for costumes for our performance group
  • School
  • That lady and her unicorn at the AGNSW
  • Middle Cove for some spectacular views
  • The Coal Loader at Waverton for some

SKETCHING twice in one week!

MAKING costumes for our performance group

ATTENDING my new Writers Circle (getting lots of great ideas and encouragement).

PICNICKING by the harbour with Lucy and Max.

GETTING a bit of rest.

Lapping

By Vita Forest

I was swimming back and forth across the pool.  The pool edged in rocks and shells and soft green moss.  I was swimming with my head above the water, legs moving like a frog below.  I was feeling the wind on my face, and remembering how yesterday, the high seas had sent waves over the sides of the pool, pushing me away from the rock wall.  How I laughed with a stranger as our bodies were swept back by the cold effervescent water that poured in from the sea.  But today, the seas have calmed, have dropped back down to a more civilised level.  The Surf Beach is open again, red and gold flags fluttering in the breeze, the whole bay no longer churning with white water.

I had swum in the surf with my kids, the waves still looking mighty big as they came roaring towards us.  But the bay was not completely awash with white water.  And the flags were out, and the lifesavers.  So it seemed alright.  But now I was back at the pool on the headland, stately stroking onwards in a kind of moving meditation.  Above me, a pelican arced overhead like a kite, doing its own kind of laps, floating back and forth over the meandering edge of the black rock headland, wings outstretched, held up there between the sun and the sea.

There were a few of us crossing forwards and backwards along the far side of the pool.  For exercise, for fitness, or was it a remnant of body memory from when we were kids?  When swimming meant racing or squad training, counting the laps, watching the clock, pushing your body until it felt like it would explode.  I have mellowed since then, but I still feel the need to swim up and down.  Now I do it at lower speeds with my head out of the water so my ears don’t ache and I can look at the scenery as I go.

There were others in the pool who had obviously never been competitive swimmers, whose eyes didn’t automatically divide the water with invisible lines, straight and narrow.  They splashed and floated across the pool, or hovered in pairs chatting by the rocky outcrops or leapt in right where I was about to swim.  I could see the look of frustration on the face of a fellow lapper, but really, who was right?  Why did we think that swimming should be done this way and not that?  And we were on holidays after all.  Did it really matter if we had to detour around the woman lounging on the blow-up bed holding herself in place with a hand cupped over a bulge of black rock?  If speed and straightness was really what you were after, you could always go to the chlorinated indoor pool up the hill, with its lanes marked out with rows of black tiles and by rigid ropes strung tight between hooks at either end of its fifty metres.

But I prefer this pool with its unruly edges, its uneven rock floor and the occasional fish that floats beneath our feet, causing the boy with the goggles to shriek excitedly, “Two fish! Really big ones!”  I prefer my fingers to stroke the green moss softening the jagged rocks on the pool’s edges, where you can stop and look out at the sea and perhaps catch a glimpse of a crab sidling along, emerging and submerging beneath the water.

When I climbed up the metal ladder and balanced my way across the concrete path, back to my towel, I heard a small girl announcing to her mother as she held up a shell, “Look!  He’s still inside his egg.  Look!  He’s still there!”  And they peered into the heart of the small rounded shell she had pulled from the rock pool at her feet, and I pulled on my hat and my clothes and walked up the hill and saw that pelican, still cruising back and forth along the rocky coastline below me.