, , ,

An early knock on the caravan door has me out of bed and ready for the beach in five quick minutes. We park opposite Sea World and walk along a track to the beach: dog-with-a-purple-collar, two surfers, a swimmer, and a hanger-on grandma who forgot to bring swimming gear to Queensland in summer.

Join me as I amble down to the beach past unfamiliar plants, and, after a paddle, return behind the dunes to sit in my low sand-chair in the shade. Watch a runner who stops to do twenty push-ups, runs away, returns and does twenty more. Notice two ground birds skulking through the grass, and a butterfly skimming above them. Maintain silence as I try to catch up with my neglected diary.

The dog with the purple collar and the woman with long legs and a filmy dress crest the sandhills; the girl with a body board on a lead comes up the track: the man on the board swoops across the horizon on a wave and then jogs towards us. The family has assembled and we return up the mountain to the boy left behind to sleep.