Monday, March 3, 2008
My island home
The photos from a few posts ago were snapped by Al as I walked back over the road after taking the above. We were parked at a small church in the middle of nowhere special, a church with a swifts' nest under the eves. It was summer; our weekend away at the beach happened at the same time the area got its first proper rain in two or three years. (The holiday-rain nexus is the common denominator in all our trips away.)
I look at this and I can't believe I actually live here. I'm a lucky woman; we're a lucky family.
Tassie seems to be enjoying a certain regard in the Australian media at the moment. In the Weekend Australian magazine Swansea has been framed up as an emerging hot holiday spot; Lonnie, where I live, is in the recent edition of Australian Country Style, looking as much like a cosmopolitan urban area as the writers could manage. But it's the moments and places we stumble upon accidentally that make this place feel so special to me. Day-to-day, I tend to forget what it means to live here - it can be hard to remember in the face of loneliness and the hassles of daily life - but photos like this snap our luck and our blessings back into focus.