I’d been reluctant to think about my birthday this year, not keen on anything too much or too big. It’s been an in-between time, but each year is a gift and what’s the use in having so many good friends close by if you don’t make it happen. And I do love this golden autumn light.
So I messaged a few old faves and we met at Brown Hill late in the afternoon, bags heavy with crisps and beers and climbed to the top of town. I love the view from Brown Hill, clear across to Henley and the gulf with the city sprawling between. I love how daggy and rugged it feels up there. We didn’t see many people, Margot the dog got to run her heart out, Soph made hot cross buns (thick with butter) and we all watched the sun till the very last moment it dipped behind the sea. I had a longneck of Young Henrys IPA and didn’t once feel homesick for Sydney. Rupert gave me half of his pomegranate and we all tried to keep Baby Eddie from eating too much dirt. Walking down at dusk was lovely too, I love that time of night when, as Georgia Blain puts it, you can’t tell ‘between a wolf and a dog’. Everything is dusty grey and you have to squint to make things out. I got Lola to hold a basket and swing it with me and even at eight she was rolling her eyes. But I must have made her laugh, because in the car on the way home she said to Ehren ‘I love Meggy, she’s so active’ which is about the best compliment I’ve heard in months.