More sunshine and warm weather. The locals tell us that they have been wearing rain by the bucket load in the weeks preceding our stay, so in that respect we should count our luck tokens. Sue was off to the beach at sunrise again, drawn there like a Inca goddess paying homage to the sun as it rises in fiery juxtaposition from its watery bed. I take a more Western route and block the glare with sunglasses once it has risen high enough to make breakfast a warm and inviting experience on the balcony.
We joined Chris, Sam and Amy in the main street for coffee mid morning and then drove to Gulmarrad School to delivery some photos for an exhibition there over the weekend. I chose five photographs taken in and around Yamba last year, including a rider on a big wave at Angourie, a scene from Lovers Point, an action shot from a Yamba Buccaneers game and two black and white shots taken at midnight at the Yamba Marina.
After Gulmarrad, Sue and I drove into Maclean. For reasons I have never understood, I find Maclean a depressing little town, full of ghosts and sad stories and best wishing itself to some form of notoriety as the "first Scottish Town In Australia". I am always glad to be heading away from town, passing those power poles with their tartan waist coats on one side and the Clarence on the other, held back from obliterating the town by a massive levy. Decay seems the prevalent air of Maclean.
After returning to Yamba, I needed some time out so walked out to Lovers Point and did some writing. In the process, a bloke I knew from my Education Dept days wandered past and we kicked over some traces ... I must admit, with some discomfort for me. I mostly believe I'm done with Tambar Springs but some stories still disturb me in the retelling. As this workmate had been in student welfare, the stories we knew as shared narratives were necessarily the most disturbing. Regardless, it was good to be writing and some bits and pieces of it will be keepers.
The evening bought on State of Origin and none better to host than the Bookends, Chris and Sam. The majority of the family crew turned up to watch the Blues get flogged again but it was fun watching the varying reactions and scoring the comments. Meanwhile, the alternate bunch, all women but no less tough or competitive, peeled their faces off in our unit like reptiles on a warm spring day in an apparent beauty treatment. I'm hard pressed to know which camp was the most bizarre.