Tuesday, 22 July 2014

Part of the Pools
June 2014

Reluctancy stuck to the soles of Hornwomans shoes and staff as she, Goatman and Edie the Kid commenced their unmarked trail to the Blinman Pools.
The trail had never been trod by human weight in their opinion. The goat tracks and a compass pointing south spoke of the Pools and that that is the path they should take.

The steep, shaled terrain kept her reluctancy acute for several hundred meters of traversing - concocting images of ankles at wrong angles, car keys lost in the vast surrounds and a big, blank read of No Service for phone reception to match.
Goatman found his staff first with thanks to Hornwoman's keener eye. With the presence of our first mascot by our ambling footed sides, the reluctancy and reliance on the compass began to slip.
Goatwoman relaxed into the path ahead. The vehicle road gone. A goat track curving west around the chest of the first of many creases.
A weightless silence filled the space between the three and the chitter of tumbling rock beneath the feet of ground dwelling wildlife. The silence but for their sound and the circulating winged sky life was delicate. Two human figures and a canine had joined the threadwork of the mysteriouus surrounds for an afternoon.
Pausing to gasp in admiration on countless occasion, at seemingly simple, intricate detail of a beautiful uninterrupted space.

Goatman, in an exhalation of epistomological thought: "Would you think that the animals marvel of the beauty of such a place as we do??"
Clothes fell to the dirt and sun danced into their eyes as the man and women were intoxicated by the discovery of the spectacular oasis and the feeling it aroused. The air pressed cool, ricocheting off the stone and prickles bit bald feet.
The clothes came off. The water pierced, fierce. Lungs retrieting as other body parts that came in two's did too. The clothes stayed off.
They jumped into the sky. Their decorum a reflection of the primitive landscape. Riddled with the desire to let go of what would be perhaps 'moonstruck' behaviour. That term representing quite what it is for the moment. The moon that week was as complete as the Goatman and Hornwoman behaviour.

Nothing to divide near and far, big and small, but the conditioned manner of human interpretation.

Friday, 4 July 2014

I walked through the city
8.30 pm 3rd July
The human anatomy of the neck and shoulders will
evolve to resemble the Homo Sapiens preceding us once more. We used to hunch to the ground to fossick for food & material. Reasons for the
future diminished pool of 'straight backed and erect' are for far more practical
consideration of course. Must be checking constantly that the phone, laptop, ipad, tablet, ipod isn't turning to food before our very goggly

Wednesday, 2 July 2014

De Groot Move
(Beginning in the Summer of 2014)
July 2014
The commencing week of the De Groot Coffee Roastery at Rocky and Mick's 'Factory 9', Port Elliot was the beginning of new beginnings. The weather committed to the 30's c. Trev committed to the Middleton surf report. Lunch breaks to the Port Elliot Bakery meant a drive by Knights Beach. Little room was left for coffee chatter as we played beans in the generous space the Roastery had found.
Let me not deny the truth of Trevor and my interest for all things of coffee descent. Instead of drawing breath between surf updates and the hypnosis of the wave, we accomodated what would have been mainstream dialogue at Espresso Royale with the addition of new enthusiasm.

Routine altered slightly from our one of Magill Rd life.
Trev hits the bitumen Tuesdays and Thursdays to deliver the coffee to customers, bringing back tales of the city for Wednesdays and Fridays in the factory. Roasting prevails Monday, Wednesday and Friday - the preliminary months on the little red roaster until the big, black, PROBAT spaceship could be launched. The machine is now a living dream, almost completing the scene of the factory space. Trev and Bernadette prepare the interior for its public view days ahead when the Roastery Cafe will find its feet for summer 2014.
I will now articulate some subtleties around my working day at Factory 9. The thirty minute morning drive where the sun begins to greet the rolling green of the Fleurieu, as my blinking eyes adjust, is a remedy for morning weariness. My stop at Peter and Steven's 'Six acre Grocer', Port Elliot fills our fridge with produce gathered by local gardeners. People willing to share their home grown fruit and vegetables.
The community sense felt around the Peninsula convinces me that I have many, many friends in the region!! Perhaps they don't know be by name, but it feels as they do, without saying so. Personable folk enjoying the lifestyle of the plentiful and spacious, below the city.
The De Groot Coffee Co new headquarters couldn't be in a finer niche. My niche out here feels about right too.