By Andy, 65. Byron Bay, NSW It must have been early February 2005 ... I was bored with my current job, so on a whim I bought a ticket to Sri Lanka and boldly decided to become a volunteer in the post-tsunami southeast coast of that troubled land. Prior to leaving, I spoke with an… Continue reading Wrong Place, Wrong Time
Category: NSW
Morning Musings
By Andy, 65. Byron Bay, NSW Woke this morning kinda listless …A rainy day again (as is the cycle at present). Brewed an espresso and sat in the feelings rather than attempt to shake them off. My mind was like a book left carelessly out in the breeze. Pages flitting, randomly stopping occasionally with the… Continue reading Morning Musings
Sea Eagle
By Andy, 65. Byron Bay, NSW Hmmm when was this? Let's see ... I must have been back from India for quite a while. Months. Years maybe. I was living in Byron Bay as I remember being on the beach a lot, just lying in the sun or practicing harmonic throat singing. Of course, plenty… Continue reading Sea Eagle
Good Sport
By Karen, 65. Sydney, NSW Don’t mean to brag, but I’m a Triathlete, of some repute. This happened on one of my first races as part of the Australian team, competing overseas in Honolulu. World Champs, Olympic distance race. Great course around parkland one end of the famous Waikiki strip. All race set, fit, jumping… Continue reading Good Sport
Time
By Terence, 72. Doonside, NSW Where have you gone, I wish you were here What did I say, was my meaning not clear When I looked in your eyes, saying I would be true That time would not change, what you knew that I knew The years that have passed, time just ticking away Hair… Continue reading Time
Sixteen Missions
By Rayna, 77. Sandy Beach, NSW As the sun dips on the horizon, Harry slowly places the binoculars back in their case. His arms ache and his eyes sting from scanning the skies all afternoon. Knowing there won’t be any sign of him now, he trudges back to his cottage. Charlie never flies at night. … Continue reading Sixteen Missions
To the Top
By Paul Blanksby, 63. Helensburgh, NSW ‘You’re a sook, Miklas, a big sook.’It’s that Johnno again. Oh, I could just… They can’t have seen me sitting in my backyard, these boys, through the passionfruit vine and the wind-warped paling fence. An unwanted adult observer of their little drama. A smaller boy, wearing a blue jumper… Continue reading To the Top
Remembering Nan
Somebody sent me a photo of the vacant block where Nan and Pa’s house had stood, even longer than the seventy-five years they occupied it. Well, at least Pa had been in it that long, Nan having pre-deceased him by more than a decade. Although demographically the average longevity of women being greater than that… Continue reading Remembering Nan