29 December, 2013

The memory pool

A month or so ago, I went on a child-free weekend away to a  coastal holiday town with my friend, Monique. It was amazing. No one else to worry about except ourselves and we were sooooooo mellow we barely had a pulse. We walked on the beach, ate pate and crackers non-stop,talked and talked, drank endless cups of tea…and then went out for coffee! We pottered and read , picnicked and napped and, can you believe it, after all that there were still 6 hours left of each day to fill! So, Monique took me for a walk to a little waterfall. She said" Let's go to the waterfall", so we did. I just took my hat and hopped in the car without having to find a pair of shoes for everyone, the sun hats, a bottle of water, snacks in case someone has a meltdown or needs a bribe, the insect repellant or all the swimming togs. No, just me in the car, one smooth move. Sweet!

The walk to the waterfall was easy and fun. Along a little stream and around the corner, in an indention of the hills, a pool! The waterfall was really just a natural weir…..on, no it was not. It was the base pool for a higher waterfall up a rock face that was in itself, the base pool for yet another waterfall and so on and so on. Fabulous!cThe rock was the perfect kind for climbing up…nice footholds and hand holds and easily done IF I was not wearing the most voluminous white gypsy skirt with ballet slipper shoes. I looked like a runaway bride scampering up rocks . Coming down was even more hilarious as the wind made my skirt Marilyn over my head . Sometimes I wonder how I manage to get myself into situations like this.

Anyway, the pools were tranquil, deep and very cool. We sat up there looking at the water and rocks for some time. I did not have my phone with me so no records exist of the scene, but this is the sentiment of the place.
30 x 60 cm
oil on canvas
Top of the waterfall

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