Out of the Remembered Past

Perched atop the dunes, I watch the light of a waxing crescent moon dance on dark waters. The salt laden breeze rushes my ears and cools my skin. With the fire flickering behind me I ponder existential things, thresholds between land and sea, life, death, and how this place both settles and unsettles me.

Retiring to a dying fire and swag I read a chapter of Ross Gibson’s Memoryscopes. I underline the phrase, “The country grows out of the remembered past”.

I remember the advice a Yuin/Bunurong/Tasmanian storyteller named Bruce Pascoe once shared with me. 'When looking for inspiration, light a fire outside', he said, "and just look at the fire."

The flames speak of loss and mourning, they whisper forgotten connections, they dance joyful history. Closing my eyes, fitful sleep is soundtracked by a roaring sea.

Works cited

Gibson, R. 2015 Memoryscopes: Remnants Forensics Aesthetics UWA Pubilishing, Crawley, p.7.

Photographs: Wreck Beach, Cape Paterson, 2017; Rees Quilford; digital;