There is a saying that you should start each New Year the way you intend to continue it. This year, we woke on New Year's Day on the banks of the Snowy River, watching a platypus fish as dawn light cast a pink glow on the surface of the water and mist rose from the river in thin, swirling wisps. We had slept in the open, no roof or tent. Dew covered our bivvy bags and beside us, moored to the bank, was our raft and our home for the next four days. Ahead lay a day of rapids and gorges and deep cool swimming holes. I could only hope that the following 364 days of this year would turn out so well.
Saturday, 27 June 2015
Thursday, 11 June 2015
|View along the cirque to Mt Murchison summit (left)|
These are my thoughts at dawn, waking on top of Mt Murchison in Tasmania's western region, sitting at 1275m and seeing the cloud curling and lapping below our feet.