beneath the mountain

It was thanks to heavy traffic that we bid farewell to the setting sun and drove directly into the darkest of rainclouds that I unconvincingly told myself would pass us by.

Arriving at our destination in the pouring rain and pitch black we clumsily found our way bumping in the darkness between large rocks and the tall dark twisted trunks of numerous gum trees, completely missing the road most of the way, to a back corner of the property that would be our new home for the next four days. And admittedly with thoughts of then turning around and driving all the way home to sleep in my own dry bed and then begin our trek again the next morning, we set up our tents by the glow of car headlights and the thundering sound and wetness of the heavens opening.

With soaked hair and clothes clinging to every inch of skin and the ever so frequent looks to each other reassuring ourselves that things will only get better from here we succeeded in pitching our tent and tarp. After some mopping and ringing (yes ringing) of towels to rid our bedrooms of the puddles inside we had a dry and comfortable first nights sleep with dreams of conquest, the feeling of being watched over by another shadowy looming dark shape that seemed to cover half the sky and of a sunny day in the morning.

And indeed that's what we were granted. With the challenges of the night before seeming such a strange and distant memory we discovered what a pretty place we had set up camp amidst and that shadowy looming enormity watching over us the night before showed itself as the strong and ancient rocky face of Mt Edwards.

It's always such an adventure to wake in the crisp misty light of morning, with sun streaming through the cold air leaving swords of foggy yellow light between branches of trees illuminating the unexplored. Like a stripy wrapping paper on a much anticipated gift that you can now unwrap.

Oh and the things that that unwrapping revealed....

new friends....

outdoor baths....

gratefulness for remembering to pack the hammock....

and for the view to be admired while gently rocking there.

I celebrated my 38th year.

We dyed eggs with leaves and onion skins to have for breakfast Easter morning.

We canoed and boated (of which I have no photographs because there was quite a bit of indulgent playing with my new camera which caused the battery to flatten a just a little too early) ever so peacefully in the creek...unfortunately without spying the platypus that live there so I think an earlier row on the creek is required next time.

I made damper and cooked it for the little ones on sticks over the fire and they ate it with melted butter and raspberry jam while we sat mesmerised by the flames.

We collected eggs, fresh from sleep, around dawn on Sunday morning.

So yes, each dawning moment was an unveiling.

Quite the right way to celebrate all the weekend was.
A challenging beginning and a blissful end...all unwrapped beneath the mountain.