Somewhere behind the tidal wave shores, underneath early cement laid pads and hidden in eyes of our native animals was the passion that had been kept in the heart and mind, awaiting spark. Not spark that has been lost, or a vision unclear. Instead, needing refinement, clarity in mind, breath and soul. A nod of approval, pat on the shoulder or an affirmation whispered, the clarity came from a parrot call, ocean air and an old Gorge Chair.
This week I’ve taken leave so that Loryn and I could take a holiday to Tasmania. I had only visited a few times before- mostly quick trips for meetings and conferences. So it was great to have a week to explore, to search and take some time away- some time to sleep more, reconnect more and think more.
So after an early morning flight to the airport in Sydney, we flew into Hobart and headed north in pursuit of snow, wildlife and gorgeous views. We crossed old bridges, soaring windmills and watched the wind dance across the leaves- up to the tree tops of the mountains nearby Cradle.
Snow filled dreams turned to snow filled mountains early the next morning, bordering windy shallows and freezing lakes. Along the way wombats roamed fresh native grasses, water fell from familiar heights and snowflakes glistened, glowing in midday bows of rain.
It was then to Launceston for longing Gorges, steeping in recent histories and impending power generation. It was then fields of lavender dreams, dairy sampling and old tree carvings before the red rocks glowed in the bay of once Aboriginal fires.
Then jetty’s led to ocean callings, as devils played under tourist eyes. Waves trashed the ocean shoreline, unwavering force melting the rocky shores. Eyes traced the land borders of the unknown, challenging the grounding of those ashore. Small rocks immersed a singular pay, providing questioning of probable knowns.
Yesterday, the devil named kitchen and arch pursued light and ocean views, before lavender again flavoured the palette. It was then on to Port Arthur history that locked secrets of all, hiding in the darkness of a past wanting forgotten, but one that needs to be shared forever.
As my mind darts to the nature and farming I crave, it’s with a reignited passion I seek to drive, to travel on with clarity.
After, of course, a quick trip to Indonesia and Singapore to look at entrepreneurship abound cultural limits and in pursuit of following this restored dream.
Hooroo, and back again next week!