I acknowledge the Kaurna people as the custodians of the lands and waters where I live and work. I pay my respect to the Elders, past, present and emerging.

In a cloud day

I was expecting a dull, cloudy day at Grange Jetty, the kind where the grey sky mirrors the flat, steel-coloured sea. Spring in South Australia can be fickle, even in 2018. But the afternoon unfolded quite differently. The clouds, though present, remained high and wispy, allowing slivers of sunlight to break through and dance on the water. It wasn’t the bright, dazzling sunshine of summer, but a softer, gentler light that painted the scene in subtle hues.

What truly transformed the afternoon, however, were the “fisher boys,” as I fondly think of them. A group of lads, perhaps early teens, with an infectious enthusiasm for their pastime. They weren’t serious, seasoned anglers, but rather kids enjoying the simple pleasure of casting a line and hoping for a nibble. Their laughter echoed across the jetty, mingling with the gentle lapping of waves. They shared stories, jokes, and the occasional triumphant yell when a crab was caught in a net. Their carefree spirit was contagious, a reminder of the simple joys in life. It turned an otherwise ordinary afternoon into a surprisingly enjoyable one, a small, happy memory from a spring day at Grange Jetty.

 

Grange Jetty, South Australia
Spring, 2018