Sat.Walk Coffs Harbour

I'd spent all day cooped up on a train from Sydney to Coffs, 9 hours! so on Saturday I was itching to get out there and move.
But
it was one of those days when the best paid plans go astray and expectations trip you up.

Mischieva has an old friend here, who is now in a nursing home, she arranged the friend's son to take her there for a visit - gradually it dawned on me that she wanted me to go too, I have only met this lady a few times, many years ago, but Mischieva was determined and since I'm her guest, I couldn't really refuse, being rude wasn't an option.

I'd already spent the morning writing, so with a sinking feeling, I got out of my pj's and got ready.
When they wheeled her in, it was obvious she was living her last days.
She was barely talking, but she did recognize Mischieva, and we spoke to her for a while, I could see that Mischieva was shaken, but tried to carry on a normal conversation...it got too much for her, and she said goodbye.
When I said goodbye, she kept looking at me with this silent plea, something unspoken yet so palpable,
I looked into her eyes and gave her an opening into my heart.
When I kissed her goodbye, I tasted a tear running down her frail cheek.
What a gift, this penultimate reality check, one day that will be me.






So anyway, back to NOW,  this Sat. Walk became a Sun. Walk, and I set off with pent-up enthusiasm.

I decided to try and find my way through suburbia to a path I know runs through the mangrove swamp in the middle of the town, since it was cold and windy along the coast.

After some nice walking through some nice bushland and some not so nice walking on some suburban streets, I came to a dead-end with a little brook running through it

the suburban influence was clearly visible

weeds give their touch of beauty in such a survivalist way,

uncared for, having to fight for their piece of the Sun,

here they have a tropical profusion

the bushland is similar to the southern coast in some places

+  tropical surprises

but is it art?

this is closer...

this is it!

tired of the 'burbs now, I beat a hasty retreat towards a beer somewhere

from memory, down at the yacht harbour there is a bar...

so I head off in that direction, along the coast despite the wind, brave flowers braving it like me 

and cheering me on towards my beer

there is this scrub bird that hangs around, I kept chasing him slowly but he is shy

the main path way has all these enticing paths to the beach

looking right

looking

 left

south and north

the Pacific Ocean

so different in its soft balminess to the Southern Ocean

but just as cold today

the bridge to beer ;)

but is it art?

at the jetty beach, I salute my kindred spirits

classic surf shop!

and - then - my refuge!

where I sink into an armchair, sip my beer, eat squid and by luck,

happen to arrive just as a jazz group commence a Sunday sesh

'twas perfect

the girl singer had the sweetest jazz voice I've heard,

this song stayed in my mind for the rest of the day

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8fvf6kcFIM

.

.

.

back home seems like  looonngg way when I leave

back to the burban streets

grey, but not without their flowers 

and

the piece de resistance

Sandy Arizona

peaches and cream

(though I don't normally like little poodly-woo fluffy cutesey doggies 

of course!

;)

XX KK