Two little girls in flowered dresses walked past our group today. One (her hat was pink, her hair was blonde) held an ice cream. "We're sharing this ice cream," she said to us all, "because we are good at sharing," and we watched them walk by with collegial murmurings about how cute they were. At the time we were carrying out emergency evacuation training that involved how to get hundreds of tourists out of this forest enclave in the event of a bush fire.
The two little girls were nearly out of earshot when I heard the blonde-haired kid whisper to her mate, "You know this is my ice cream. You can't have any."
First thing, first day of firetower. First challenge was the two trees fallen across my road out to the highway. I sat in my car for an hour, ringing friends, checking emails and waiting for the shire guys to turn up. They did, with their usual good humour, back hoe and chainsaw.
The swans are back from their inland sojourn. They were late to the inlet this year, possible because inland paddocks and marshes have been wetter for longer after this winter. I heard them return about five nights ago, singing and honking like adenoidal teenagers, as they gossiped their way home, to moult, to nest, to fish for cockles.
