A visit to the henge on a cold, blustery Spring day

A narrow street in Ilfracombe

One of the old public taverns dating back to the thirteenth century

A walk through a narrow street - and yes, cars are allowed!

The harbour sands

Discovered on the sand dunes
The old oratory of St Piran, an important early Celtic monastery which became one of the foremost places of pilgrimage in mediaeval Cornwall (the shrine contained the relics of St Piran along with the teeth of St Brendan and St Martin), became overwhelmed by sand sometime before 1500.

Following its excavation in the last century, it had to be reburied in 1981 to protect the structure and the site is now marked by a memorial stone. Nearby are the ruined walls of the Norman parish church (built c. 1150) which in turn had to be abandoned to the sand in 1804. Beside it is a fine cross which may be the one recorded as a boundary point in a tenth-century charter.

Ruined walls of the Norman Parish Church

A view of Perranporth along the coastline

The castle that is not a castle!

Arundel Cathedral

From Melbourne to the UK

An evening view of Melbourne

To Worthing

Worthing Pier

Hot sultry days. Seeking a breeze, Pelicans find relief atop a lamp post. Late evening dreaming under a vivid sunset.

Almost to a point of stillness is the peaceful experience of the view before me. Its serenity touches a central core. Quiet meditation - I have a sense that I am not just an observer of nature but a part of nature, belonging and relating to it in a spiritual sense.

I thrive on sunshine. On this cloudy cool January day I look to the window and see the ten lemon-scented gums which were planted around 20 years ago. They are beautiful throughout the year. Tall and straight, with their marvellous bark which changes from green to soft pink, and then peels away to reveal the white trunks which are their trademark. Their lemon-scented canopy of dark green leaves is a mecca for birds in summer when the white flowers are rich with nectar. This line of trees can be seen from beyond our garden. They are a landmark, slightly taller than most of the other trees in the area. I don’t feel any sense of ownership of these trees. After I leave my garden they will remain, even if the less permanent plants die or are replaced by a new owner who inherits it. These trees too, will one day die, but compared to a human life, they seem infinite.

The sweet and vivid memories of sun and summer lighten some of the heaviness the last year has held for us. There is no need to recount details; they are variations on a theme I have written of before. Whether personal or societal, they have to do with brokenness, incompleteness, and the unbearably long road to reconciliation. Sadness is a more prevalent theme in the Christmas letters we have received so far this year. We are all getting older. Sad events happen more frequently; but perhaps also we are increasingly aware how easy it is to be more self-centred, less caring of others, when times are tough. For me the challenge is to retain a healthy perspective.

Now I am measuring the last year's passage with other sunlit memories. In the midst of the heavy rains of November, I recall one glorious purple and blue early Saturday morning standing in the garden at Tolmie overlooking the Delatite Valley, watching the mist mingling with sun, "season of mists and mellow fruitfulness" and later in the day the sun gilding and sharpening images - a Mediterranean sun - words fail, better left in the brushes of the painters in oil - heat lingering into the evening, long after it has disappeared. Ah, the remembrance warms the very bones...

AFTER thinking about what I want to achieve this New Year, I am basing my resolution on something a businessman once said: ``One of the greatest assets a person can have in life is the ability to live with uncertainty.''

I’ve often thought about these words as I’ve struggled along with most of the human race to make things secure, certain and stable for myself – and I’ve worked ceaselessly to create a sure-fire, reliable barge to carry myself across the sea. Yet, all too often precarious weather conditions have stirred the waters in ways that have rendered me nervous and afraid. And so it is my wish that over the coming year I make uncertainty something I accept, and something that can be a source of joy rather than fear. I live uncertainty as the company I work for continually goes through change, people are retrenched, working conditions are changed, I look for certainty and in the end I have to accept the ambiguity of change.

But the anxiety that robs us of our vitality is unnecessary in many ways. Because as this most wonderful of parables reveals – told to me – our quest for outcomes is just an illusory game.

“There was once a poor farmer who had a horse that used to do all the work around the property. The farmer would ride the horse into town to sell his produce. Then one day the horse ran off. ‘Oh no’, said the townspeople, ‘This is a terrible thing. You will be ruined.’ The farmer just smiled in a thoughtful way: ‘Let’s wait and see’ he said.
A few days later the horse returned, and with it, several other beautiful horses. It had been out in the field mating and all the horses followed it back to the farm. ‘Oh how wonderful!’ Said the townsfold. ‘Now you’ll be rich, what good fortune’. The farmer just smiled in a thoughtful way. ‘Let’s wait and see’ he said.

The horses indeed brought the farmer good fortune. He expanded the farm and started breeding and training the horses. The old man retired and let his son run things. Then one day his son was training one of the horses and fell off and broke his leg. ‘Oh no,’ said the townsfolk. ‘This is a terribel thing. How he won’t be able to run the business and you will be ruined.’ The old farmer smiled thoughtfully: ‘Let’s wait and see’, he said.

A few weeks later war broke out. All the young men of the village were drafted. But the farmer’s son was not taken because of his broken leg. ‘Oh what amazing forturn!’ said the townsfold. ‘You have the only young man able to work in this whole village. You will remain prosperous while the rest of us starve’. The old farmer smiled thoughfully and said ‘Let’s wait and see.’

And so the story goes on, for days if one wants to add and subtract. It’s a wonderful yarn to tell children late at night when they are troubled or when things are going badly with friends or teachers at school. Just wait and see is so soothing to the soul.

And really, we never known what the outcome will be, or why things are happening or what will happen next, so we may as well enjoy the moment. As my mother always says: “Everything changes.”

I guess the best way to live with uncertainty is to accept it and to surrender in trust to a power greater than ourselves.
But I have also taken a few tips from pragmatists on how to best deal with the uncertain nature of things. One wise friend says that in times of trouble she imagines the worst-case scenario. “If you know you can survive that, you know you will be able to deal with everything else in between.” Another says he has faith that we are always better equipped to deal with things than we think we’re going to be. “The experience we gather along the way when handling an issue teaches us how to cope with whatever eventuates.”

However, one deals with uncertainty in 2004, it’s interesting to note that the businessman I quoted earlier is now one of the wealthiest men in the country. Whatever wealth means for you – health, love, happiness, money – it pays to stay open to the endless possibilities of life …

A firework display in Melbourne.

Hamish is now three months old and weighs around 6 kilos and has settled into home life after a two month stay in hospital and in the last month he has amazed us all. We have been enchanted watching him trying to remove the clear plaster that holds his feeding tube in his nose by directing his arm to his face and rubbing the plaster away! His hands are still clenched into fists and there is little or no movement in the fingers but Jacqui gently exercises them daily and places toys and rattles within in them to hold them open for short periods of time.

His head turns to seek out voices and when laid on his stomach he can lift his head very well. Laid on his back he can almost roll over. He can move his legs and toes and he has begun to vocalise. He rarely smiles and looks very serious. When Jacqui tube feeds him, she holds him as if she were breast feeding and he gazes directly at her.

He has come far in the last three months. For a baby with sever brain damage to the motor region of his brain he is developing beyond our expectations and those of his doctor.

It is still too early to predict just how badly he will be affected but for now each small step he achieves for us is a miracle ...

For extreme weather watchers, Melbourne has just delivered a December to remember.

If today's forecast maximum of 28 is correct, or near enough, this month will go down as the city's hottest December since 1873.

And if you've had trouble sleeping, here's why: for overnight minimum temperatures, it has been the hottest ever.

The city was also much wetter than usual thanks to the month's other extreme-weather offering - the "once-in-a-century" downpour that flooded whole suburbs.

Yesterday's maximum of 40.3 at 3.53pm was five degrees above the forecast and catapulted 2003 from fourth place to second in the list of the hottest Decembers.

The average maximum for the month has been 27.2 - more than three degrees above the long-term December average of 24 and just below the 27.3 record attained 130 years ago. Victoria as a whole was about two degrees warmer than average.

But it was at night that Melburnians really felt the heat. "Melbourne's average minimum temperature for December at 15.8 degrees is the highest on record," said Ken Dickinson, senior forecaster at the Bureau of Meteorology. The minimum forecast for this morning was 16 degrees - high enough to secure the record ahead of the previous record of 15.5 in December, 1994.

Unusually, Melbourne's scorching heat yesterday matched traditional hot spots like Mildura. The state's highest maximum of 42 was recorded just outside Melbourne at Avalon Airport.

Geelong topped Melbourne with 41.

December was wet as well as warm for Melbourne, with rainfall over 20 per cent higher than the average.

Overall, 2003 was slightly warmer than usual for Victoria, with temperatures about half a degree above average. Rainfall was average, but drought continued in Gippsland and central Victoria, with Melbourne receiving only three-quarters of its normal rainfall. Horsham recorded Victoria's top temperature for 2003, with 46 degrees on January 25. Mt Hotham recorded the coldest on August 20: minus 9.3.

Melbourne's top of 44.1 degrees, also recorded on January 25, was the fourth highest temperature recorded in the city since records began in 1855. It was the hottest day since January 13, 1939 - Black Friday - when the mercury reached 45.6.

More than 80 fires flared across that state in what a Country Fire Authority spokesman said could be a sign of things to come. Two of the outbreaks are believed to have been sparked by farm harvesters.

What is it with Mother-in-laws! Having arrived back from a weekend in Mansfield Sunday we get a call and before I know it she has invited herself and her visitors from the UK to a BBQ at our house Tuesday night! Looking around I see an empty fridge, a messy food larder, a disaster of a house and an untidy garden (well that’s what happens when you leave a 21 year old son in charge).
Husband of course, has said yes to BBQ - see you Tuesday. Turns to me and sees the horrified look upon my face. We'll keep it simple he says. You don't have to go to too much trouble!

It’s now six pm Sunday evening and I’m just about to put the 8ft Christmas tree up. This involves carrying huge boxes from the garage and rearranging the front living area. First off, husband says’ “why did you take the base apart” as he struggles impatiently to put it back together again. I take it from him and soon have all the screws in place. “Why are the lights not in the Christmas tree box?”. I now open every box and of course find them in the last box! Soon the Christmas tree is up and the lights and tinsel strung and within another two hours all the ornaments are hung and the room is decorated with further ornaments and it now looks very festive.

“How can we not put up our ‘America' tree” says our son. (All the ornaments for the American tree were purchased in the States whilst visiting family one Christmas). So before I know it son has the second tree out of the box and is erecting it in the family room. By 11.00 pm this tree is decorated. In between we’ve had a BBQ and I’ve dashed madly around collecting dirty washing. Because it has been a very hot weekend said son has used every t-shirt/pair or shorts in his cupboard and ironing pile is enormous!

Monday finds me dashing to work at 7.00 am. Dire threat to husband to leave work at a reasonable time as house needs huge clean and dust. Husband excels and arrives to pick me up at 5.30 pm. Quick run home (the God’s must be smiling on me this evening). Step into messy house. Empty boxes, bits of tree, tissue paper lying everywhere. Whilst showering decide on modus operandi – start at one end of house and move through.

Boxes packed within boxes and moved to garage, husband sent outside to blow patio and paved area. Whilst I tackle study and front lounge/dining area. Things shoved in cupboards, etc. Husband returns and cooks dinner. Still tidying. Eat dinner husband sent to wash dogs. Still tidying. Husband sent with list to supermarket, (on top of list is FLOWERS (I need them!). Still tidying. Tackle son’s bathroom, take one look in son’s bedroom, shut door! Decide to keep door shut for rest of week. Clean fridge, rearrange larder. Husband returns. Stuff ten potatoes for BBQ. Husband vacuums/dusts throughout house. I tackle huge, huge ironing pile. 11.00 pm finally done. Son and husband have shirts and t-shirts for rest of week. Dash outside to wipe down BBQ and dust outside table. Son arrives home – dire threats about keeping house tidy. Midnight - crawl into bed after tidying bedroom (throwing everything into wardrobe). Up at 6.00 am . Clean en-suite (do I now smell of shower cleaner as I sit in office I think). Set off to work at 7.00 am. (More threats to son and dogs about house being kept neat). 8.10 am now in office. Dire threats again to husband to leave work at reasonable time to pick me up.

All organised for visit of Mother/father-in-Law and friends this evening … simple eh!!!!

The last orchid for summer. We would have had about 15 heads this year gown in pots on our patio and fed monthly.

There's nothing quite like a weekend of mowing in Spring!

Now that summer is almost here, we can spend our days in what has become all the rage in Australia -our "outside" room ie sitting under the pergola. Our pergola overlooks the coastal plain towards the bay and in the far, far distance you can see the huge ships travelling along the coastline. At night, it is like looking down on a thousand fairy lights.

At the moment our pergola is not covered as we removed the old shade cloth at the beginning of Spring and we are debating whether we should put some new shade cloth or waterproof the area by covering it with some plastic roofing. I quite like it open as it has lightened the area somewhat.

In the summer we spend many an evening just relaxing under the pergola - we've had many a barbecue and party under starlit skies and when our 21 year old son has friends around this is where they often congregate to "chew the cud" over many a barbecued sausage and beer!

Hamish is now seven weeks old and weighs six kilos. We can see a slight improvement though he still does not move like a normal baby. He is very aware, recognises voices and faces. He can move his head from side to side and can now cry - never before have we been so happy over a crying baby! He has started to swallow and only requires suctioning two or three times a day. He is still being fed by tube. Speech therapists are working with him and hopefully within time he will be taught to swallow. Jacqui has become really competent is changing the feeding tube and inserting it into the stomach. She is also competent in suctioning him. She has also learned how to massage his limbs and we are hopeful that after seven weeks in hospital he will finally be allowed home this weekend.

Jacqui with Hamish at the Royal Children's hospital

"Now where's breakfast Nan?"

Just one of the many ...

It's snowing Tolmie today - the flakes fall from the sky to cover the land

Then within the hour the Paps could be seen as the dark clouds lifted

Mt Buller appeared covered in a white mantle of snow

Now the rain softly falls as the evening draws in ... a cold wet night but we remain snug with the log fire burning and the music softly playing ... how strange is life ... dark yet so beautiful as our thoughts turn to our little grandson ...

Neonatal ICU - Melbourne Royal Children's Hospital
The saddest news imaginable. Hamish, our new Grandson has been diagnosed with Cerebal Palsey - of the severest kind. The Paediatrician told Terry that he may not have the use of his arms and legs and may or may not be able to swallow. The damage has occured in the centre of his brain which affects his mobility. We do not know if he will be intellectually disabled though the MRI scan shows little damage to the right side of his brain. As you can imagine, Matthew and Jacqui are absolutely devastated. I have worked through my grief and sadness with Terry but I cannot even imagine how Matthew and Jacqui feel. They are currently staying with us for a couple of days which is good for Jacqui as she can be cossetted. Leaving the hospital without the baby is hard enough but to go home I imagine will be heartbreaking.

Matthew is bearing up well though I am concerned for him - I know they both know the seriousness of the situation but are holding on to "hope". The hope that as Hamish was caught immediately after birth and medicated the brain damage might repair itself and because he is a baby the other sides of the brain may take over. As for Terry and I we believe he will be severely disabled but cannot disabuse Matthew and Jacqui of their hope. Miracles sometimes do happen but I think this is an awful ask.

Hamish will stay at the Royal Children's Hospital until such time as he can swallow. He is thriving - I have seen him blink and stretch and lift his little legs though his arms are flaccid. Jacqui said yesterday that he waved his arms around. We do not know what all this means - is it the brain just shutting down (rather like the itch you feel when your leg is removed) or is it something more? Hamish will have another MRI scan next week so see if the damage has changed. Terry and I hope to be with Matthew and Jacqui for this appointment so that we can learn more. Whatever happens Hamish is going to be a part of this family and I think in one way and another he is going to change us all. He will be loved and nurtured - for us the thought that there will be an intelligent little boy in a body that may not be able to communicate is horrific but we'll all be there for him and help him cope. May be our love itself will create the miracle for this very different special little boy.

Our nearest planetary neighbour, Mars made its closest pass of Earth in over 59,000 years last night. Thousands of Australians peered up into the night sky to see the bright star in the east. It was the brightest star in the sky.

It's a serious business!

Old Melbourne - St. Patrick's Cathedral

New Melbourne - The Rialto

It was minus one in Berwick this morning. A heavy frost covered the land. Walking in the garden with the dogs this morning I noticed our magnolia tree was flowering. It is as if Spring has finally begun to awake from its brooding sleep, unlocking with some private incommunicable note of triumph, into a burst of colour and another cycle of life. The architrave of the sky creeps earlier and later towards light as the sun rises higher each day to cover the shivering earth with fingers of warmth. The tangled bare branches of sleeping trees and bushes are rendered into bead strings of buds, which are about to burst forth in a blaze of colour. Wattle trees are puffed out in a thousand yellow flowers and golden daffodils nod thier heads in the slight breeze. How wonderful Spring is with its bright colours and blossom. It is almost as if Spring is chasing the winter darkness from the land.

Low cloud hangs over the Delatitle Valley in the early morning.

We awoke to a dew spangled morning and a golden sheen of a day. It was one of those brilliant winter days when the world gleamed like something new-made. The sky was pale blue, clean and bright. Our breath puffed great silver clouds in the cold air.

Later in the day as the evening mist rose and the failing sunlight turned into dusk, a cracking fire kept away the night chill with its bright gold, glowing red embers. As the birds winged their way to their nests swooping and diving through the still dusk the sun touched the sea pooling like molten brass on the far horizon. The night breeze whispered through the gum leaves. I listened to the night sounds of the chirruping sparrows, thrushes and blackbirds and the scream of a departing cockatoo and the shifting of the leaves and the tick and creak of swaying branches as a possum rustles furtively in the gum leaves above my head.

On Sunday we awoke to a dense grey fog which wrapped the land in a clotted mass as thick as wool which never quite lifted. Later in the morning it rained from a pewter filled sky.

The days are slowly getting cooler and the winter wind occasionally places its cold fingers upon my face. We have had some cold grey days of little light and bone biting winds this year. But slowly our days begin to grow lighter and longer. The mountains in the high places wear a thick winter mantle of white. The snow this season has been plentiful.

But the dullness of winter will soon pass as the seasons continue to move through their inexorable cycle of birth and rebirth and the rhythm of life. Soon the spring rain will soak the soil, the summer sun will bake and blister the land and the autumn mists will once again chill the heart.

August in the high country

View of Buller - Sunday 8th August
'Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow ...

Sunset over the Delatite Valley