The clan has now gathered at my daughter’s place near Stanthorpe. We drive 10km to her favourite swimming hole, most of us and three dogs: my son rides a bike. I’d forgotten how beautiful it is here – rocks, running water, and recently greened bush. The rocks form a slide for humans, and the dogs bark ecstatically, leap in, crawl out and leap in again. They are all sore the next day. I find new and unidentifiable flowers – they don’t appear in “Wildflowers of the granite belt”, a booklet put out by the Stanthorpe Rare Wildflower Consortium, which usually provides convenient ID for local plants. When it’s time to go home I wander along the creek towards the falls, a twisty track with vines and roots to step over and a creek busy just beneath me.