|the curvature of the earth|
|the waterfall that wasn't|
|checking out tadpoles (stripes semi-compulsory)|
|interesting fungi (and pesky blackberries)|
|giving a sister a hand (or a back)|
I know that getting out is absolutely essential. Despite the grumbling and reluctance that sometimes (frequently) accompany a suggestion to 'put your shoes on' or 'grab your bathers' it is always, always worth persevering. The bickering vanishes. Ruby and Nina most often will walk along, arms around each other, or urge each other deeper into the surf. Lily, it has to be said, frequently begs a 'carry' from someone or other. She has pointed out that her legs are only little. Grace has always been our most willing and uncomplaining walker, abandoning the pram at twelve months, even when it would have made things easier and faster. I myself don't naturally incline to the active and can be seduced by a comfortable chair and a cup of tea , but I know that getting out is always worth it. It's especially good when you can get out in the bush, even if the water is absent from the waterfall . There are still interesting lichen and fungi to look at, or tadpoles to find, or rosellas to feed, or stairs and bridges to do silly things on. Even in the city it's fun exploring the cobblestone alleys that still run behind most of the streets in our neighbourhood, or checking out other people's front gardens and gathering a posy from the flowers that hang over fences. The advantage of our hot summer and hot start to autumn is that the sea temperature remains mild. We found ourselves having an unscheduled ocean swim at dusk after a wander led us inexorably to the beach. Ruby overcame her fear of sharks (she's been told they feed at dusk) and lack of swimming gear and we founded a new tradition - skinny dipping on easter Sunday.