Myall Lakes
Along the shore of a button grass fringed Lagoon, two black swans moved slowly, and from their curving breasts spread a double ripple that died with a whisper against the land. Above them a clouded sun shed a pale glory in which they seemed like slender ships floating through a dream. Presently the stroke of the wide, webbed feet quickened as, from far ahead, came a cluster of four quick moving vessels carving through the chop, their paddles welding the water for their propulsion.
The swans whipping wings were only just clearing the black surface of the water, till, with a sudden splashing and flapping of the hitherto unbroken expanse, they came to rest a safe distance away.Hours before, the boats arrived from the South and the adventurers embarked with the image of a glistening white sandy beach in their sights. Weary with buffeting the winds, their faces salt streaked, th eir clothes sprayed and sopping, their muscles lean and stiff, the explorers found rest, food, wine and content on the shore of the Lake. They even asked each other "How’s the serenity?"
In pairs they had spent the last two days, but now congregated, there was a sense of warmth, safety, and fire encircling them. Everyone felt especially safe, due to the precautionary measures of the heroic leader Megan.
Back onto the cradling expanse of water, the boats and their paddlers were in their element.For a time they paddled strong, for a time they floated, listening to the sounds of birds and winds in the 300yr old melaleucas. The air was full of nameless murmurs that breathed delicately from swamp and forest.
Then the wind came, unrelenting and opressive, forcing the vessels and their occupants to shoot their sleek bodies head on, testing its force and receiving in their tingling ears whispers of the boat ramp round each bend. There, in the little bay near Violet Hill, the travellers stood on two feet again.
R.T.Melrose, Sucanoe Myall Lakes Trip, Feb 2006
The swans whipping wings were only just clearing the black surface of the water, till, with a sudden splashing and flapping of the hitherto unbroken expanse, they came to rest a safe distance away.Hours before, the boats arrived from the South and the adventurers embarked with the image of a glistening white sandy beach in their sights. Weary with buffeting the winds, their faces salt streaked, th eir clothes sprayed and sopping, their muscles lean and stiff, the explorers found rest, food, wine and content on the shore of the Lake. They even asked each other "How’s the serenity?"
In pairs they had spent the last two days, but now congregated, there was a sense of warmth, safety, and fire encircling them. Everyone felt especially safe, due to the precautionary measures of the heroic leader Megan.
Back onto the cradling expanse of water, the boats and their paddlers were in their element.For a time they paddled strong, for a time they floated, listening to the sounds of birds and winds in the 300yr old melaleucas. The air was full of nameless murmurs that breathed delicately from swamp and forest.
Then the wind came, unrelenting and opressive, forcing the vessels and their occupants to shoot their sleek bodies head on, testing its force and receiving in their tingling ears whispers of the boat ramp round each bend. There, in the little bay near Violet Hill, the travellers stood on two feet again.
R.T.Melrose, Sucanoe Myall Lakes Trip, Feb 2006
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