Snowball

I’m interested in the point in time where things go wrong. It’s not an obvious point, usually quite the opposite. The point where you were distracted just as you were about to put the lifejackets in the boat, and later when you noticed you thought it would be ok, the weather was good, only a short trip. Or forgetting to pack a jumper for your holiday. The little decisions that snowball innocuously into disaster. I was thinking these thoughts as I led Nugget through the forest this morning, leading him around logs, pushing through vines, looking for the track. Looking and looking. Then leaving him back on the firebreak so I could have a good scout around and returning just in time to see him disappear down the hill, his broken halter on the ground.


Fortunately it was such a beautiful morning and had been such a fun ride so I had enough good humour to set off after him, walking, smiling, calling. Later when we made our way back up looking for the path again Nugget stubbornly refused to go past a little trail so I decided we might as well follow it. He was right. It’s a strange feeling exploiting an animal in order to climb steep hills and travel without effort. But I love it. My body is no longer a limiting factor.


Mum, Noah and I spent the day with our visitors again, this time in town. We went to the beach and stuffed ourselves full of chips. I have been to Flynn’s beach quite a few times before but this was the first time I’ve huddled under the lifeguard’s tower, eating chips and staying dry as the rain fell around us.

Later, at home, we were too full to contemplate a real dinner but I made some soup anyway, using up our big heads of broccoli from the garden, as well as more of our fresh cream. When I went out in the dark to pick the broccoli I surprised a tawny frogmouth that was on the path next to the garden beds. Noah came and shone his torch on it so I could get a photo.


“I’m grateful that we went to the beach and had chips”
(Confused? Look)