Charity Creek
Chris and Ray set off through the scrub with their red and blue li-los under their arm. Noonie and I had the same ones when we were kids on holiday at Little Beach but we called them surf mats I think. We negotiate the large slippery stones until we find a spot for sitting. It's shallow, so the water is not much cooler than the day but it's clear and the current moves quite fast. Chris and Ray call it rapids but they're being dramatic and ambitious.
It's the Manning River. This part near the low bridge is called Charity Creek and it's where Pickle learns to swim. He easily makes it to our sitting spot in a mixture of scrambling and desperate dog paddle. Then as he becomes more brazen he starts to swim past us towards the deeper mid part but already he's being swept down towards the bridge. Noonie leans from her position and grabs his hind leg to pull him back in. After that his forays into the water are circular, always ending back at Noonie's stone or on the shore. One time he does a bigger loop into the deeper water and back towards Noonie. He's judged it perfectly with the current bringing him in an arc towards her, but he's taken in a bowl ful of water along the way and as he comes to rest with his head over her outstretched legs he vomits it back up, that bit of the river, straight into Noonie's lap. Luckily her lap is under water and it all just dilutes.
By the time that Chris and Ray come floating down we're lying on our stomachs with just our head and shoulders out of the water. We've got our hats on and Ray says that we look like something out of another time. Chris says it's not a very English thing to do, sitting in the river. We talk about our houses and the things that we'd do if we had the chance like painting wall murals or stripes, and not buying everything from Ikea. It's relaxing until a man across the river finishes swimming and then turns on his iririgation pump that chugs at our ear level. As we're picking our way through the stones and back up to the bridge a little girl yells out: did you have a good swim? I smile at her, nod and make wide eyes.
It's the Manning River. This part near the low bridge is called Charity Creek and it's where Pickle learns to swim. He easily makes it to our sitting spot in a mixture of scrambling and desperate dog paddle. Then as he becomes more brazen he starts to swim past us towards the deeper mid part but already he's being swept down towards the bridge. Noonie leans from her position and grabs his hind leg to pull him back in. After that his forays into the water are circular, always ending back at Noonie's stone or on the shore. One time he does a bigger loop into the deeper water and back towards Noonie. He's judged it perfectly with the current bringing him in an arc towards her, but he's taken in a bowl ful of water along the way and as he comes to rest with his head over her outstretched legs he vomits it back up, that bit of the river, straight into Noonie's lap. Luckily her lap is under water and it all just dilutes.
By the time that Chris and Ray come floating down we're lying on our stomachs with just our head and shoulders out of the water. We've got our hats on and Ray says that we look like something out of another time. Chris says it's not a very English thing to do, sitting in the river. We talk about our houses and the things that we'd do if we had the chance like painting wall murals or stripes, and not buying everything from Ikea. It's relaxing until a man across the river finishes swimming and then turns on his iririgation pump that chugs at our ear level. As we're picking our way through the stones and back up to the bridge a little girl yells out: did you have a good swim? I smile at her, nod and make wide eyes.
posted by noonie at 12:04 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home