
Barely a breath of breeze. Barely a ripple on the water. As I gaze outward the only sounds that break the peaceful silence are the rhythmic dripping of dew from the rooftop onto the awning below and the haunting call of a water bird echoing through the passage. The rising sun is burning off the mist as it drifts lazily along the surface.
I feel my spirit lifting. All thoughts of what hasn’t been done, what needs to be done, what should be done, dissipate along with the mist.
A few days away reconnecting with old friends. Children building sandcastles on the beach, playing with total abandon. Finding some yabbies and baiting a hook in the hope of catching dinner for the family. Playing games together around the dinner table and easy conversation until late in the evening.
I was reminded of a recent “getaway“ we had at home, also catching up with old friends. An impromptu “sleepover”, children laughing, adults chatting, followed the next morning by a lazy breakfast.
We were lucky enough to leave our regular reality for this idyllic place, but I realised as I sat and sipped my morning coffee that although the change of location was a bonus, the “human ingredients” were what made the perfect recipe for a perfect getaway.
