Old friends and dead ones as well as slow time

Up at the usual time with the light of the day. A little writing before a short walk down to the boat ramp at Burgess Bay before turning right and rock hopping for about 30 minutes.

I’ve rambled on too much already about the rocks at Rocky Cape, but that doesn’t mean that I am complacent about them. I am still in awe. Perhaps I feel now that I know them a little better, like an old friend who I’m coming back to visit, perhaps not an old friend, more like a new one.

More rocks

On the way to the coast there is pademelon lying dead in the middle of the road, its stiff as a board lying next to a now dried blood splatter running run down the road at an angle. I kick it off the road and am reminded of the feral cat problem that once faced Tasman Island. Shortly afterwards, coming off from rock hopping there is another pademelon corpse, this one’s been dead for longer it looks like as its turned to mush. I stroll back to the shack enjoying the sun on my face but thinking about death and transience.

I’m back on the road, and after about 3 minutes driving there’s another pademelon lying stiff on the side of the road. What’s going on at Rocky Cape today? No time to stop and inspect this time as I’m off for lunch at Karl and Jo’s in Somerset. Jo is around this time and we eat and talk for many hours about Tasman Island, of course, smurf’s and family, in particular brothers and fathers. At one stage Karl tells me about his father, and some extraordinary stories about his time in World War 2 as a prisoner of war. ‘He cheated death a number of times’, Karl says. As I leave he shows me his fathers medals framed and hanging on the wall. I’ve always been fascinated by World War 2, what a time in humanity that was, and to hear a story like Karl's father is quite something amazing.

Before going back to the shack I head towards Fossil Bluff and the rock that Ian and I were interviewed on a couple of weeks ago. Unfortunately the tide is up so there’s no access today. Back on the road again to the shack, a few more drawings made, dinner, fire, warm before settling down to Carl Theodore Dreyer’s 1955 film ‘Ordet’. I rambled on a few days ago about Rossellini’s ‘Journey in Italy’ being slow, well this film by Dreyer tempers slowness with such dryness and nuance around religious squabble that it feels like its gradually squeezing tight the blood in your veins, however, it also has one of the most hypnotic and visually splendid endings of a film that I think I have ever seen. Perhaps this slow intensity of the bulk of the film makes this ending so incredible, and I say visually splendid because within the black and white of the film, the ending pushes tone with such precise symmetrical balance that it overwhelms, somewhat strangely like watching the unreal fantastic visual nature of a film like Avatar. Drawing a low bow I know, but it really was quite an extraordinary ending.