Horse and Surf

With summer's warm rays glistening on Australia's shore, Bob and I have found ourselves obligated to enjoy it. A few weekends ago we drove an hour north to our faithful campsite in Glenworth Valley. At the ranch, I had a horseback riding lesson from a well versed, sun-darkened Australian woman.

The unfortunate horse was called Ranger and as he trotted and cantered about the ring, my instructor yelled out a hundred different directions, "Mind your diagonals, push in with the leading rein, sit two beats, use your calves not your knees, watch the transition, don't bend your wrist when your doing a one-handed handstand at a gallop," etc. Instructions flew at such a torrent I was nearly swept away by her verbal cues.
As I bounced about the ring I couldn't help but wonder if she realized all I was trying to do was not fall off.

Bob watched my lesson with keen amusement, and, when I dismounted and led Ranger out of the ring he met me with a smirk, "Congratulations Allie, you just survived a lesson with the horse nazi." Indeed I had.

We camped in a nearby field where a loan wallaby coyly observed our making of a campfire. I'm sure his beady little eyes were trying to see how we made fire.
The next day we woke up to laughing kookaburras and a dew dappled tent. I walked to a nearby field and watched the ranch hands round up the horses from their night's grazing. No wimpy cowboys on ponys rounding up this lot. Oh no. In Australia, well, in an hour north of Sydney, real jackaroos round up horses on motorcycles.
After the round up Bob and I continued north and spent the day surfing along the sandy shores of Umina beach. Yes, December in Australia is to be much enjoyed.

Aussie Round-Up

How real jackaroos round-up horses.

Aussie Rounding

The Story of Clyde, part 1

West of the shores of Sydney, trains make their slow progress through Clyde Station. Commuters flock the platform in the morning, and exhale upon reaching it at the end of the day. Littering the platform with rubbish, they part with brisk steps to make their way home.

As evening creeps into the station, a slim creature scuttles onto the platform. Bones struggle to protrude from a slim gray back. White legs move in cautious bursts of speed as a dull gray tail is held low. Taking momentary shelter behind a trash bin, a gray and white head swivels, ears struggling to detect the warning sounds of humans. As the moon dances shadows over the small station, intelligent, yellow-green eyes anxiously look for food. 

Unfortunately for this 5-month old feral kitten, living among rusted train tracks provides scarce sustenance. Since birth, this is all the feral kitten has known. Humans terrify him. With their loud noises and erratic movements, they are dangerous creatures. 

Lifting his gray nose, he sniffs the night air. On a tendril wafts a tantalizing scent of meat. Cautiously, he follows the scent, dodging between posts along the platform. He doesn't know that actions tonight will change his perception of the world.

Camera Shy

I was looking through my pictures today, trying to find a topic for a story, and noticed nearly every photo of myself had something odd in common.I never face the camera. I have always been camera shy, but I didn't realize I was this bad. I think my fear stems from growing up with eczema and normally having the skin of an irritated, sad and flaky lobster. Doesn't make for a pretty picture.

But the funny thing is, I haven't had any skin problems for well over a year. So I guess I need to stop turning around as soon as someone says, "Smile!" 

These pictures did make me think of how silly people often are about their appearance. None of us are perfect, and lets face it, we could always look uglier (say with a painting of Dick Cheney mistakenly tattooed to our forehead). So smile and take pride in how unique and beautiful you are, imperfections and all. 

So, inspired by my little pep talk, here's a picture of me from the front. 

Keep smiling.

When Ghosts May Walk and Skeletons Talk

Australians don't quite get Halloween. This is a very disappointing fact. Sure some shops put out a few costumes and ghostly figures, but the plastic fades and witches can only peer meekly around fat ornaments of St. Nick in swim shorts, stockings, and reindeer statues prematurely invading the city. 

Back in the States Halloween is such a fun event! Kids go trick or treating in ghoulish forms, and even adults dress up in glee to attend seasonally spooky Halloween parties. And everyone has candy! How could you not love a holiday when you can dress up as whatever you like without looking like a dork - and get free candy? I mean, come on!

Last Halloween, I looked forward to partaking in Sydney's festivities only to realize with despair that there were none.  But this year will be different! An American friend I met through ultimate frisbee is having a Halloween party next week.

He sent an e-mail to our team and the biggest question from the Aussies was, "When's Halloween?"

I asked one of my Australian friends what she was going as, and she replied, "Well . . . a pumpkin I guess."

I gave her a flat look. "A pumkin?" I asked.

She was confused by my question. "Well otherwise I'd have to be a ghost right?"

"No, it's Halloween! You can be whatever you want."

"Really . . . are you sure that's ok?"

Seems like this will be a very educational party . . . and perhaps full of pumpkins and ghosts.

Spot out of Time

You can read about the plight of the Amur leopard in this week's Triblocal: Spot Out of Time