Austin took in a deep breath that reached all the way to his belly. He loved the musty smell of the pine trees. He was at his favourite place in the whole world, deep in the heart of the Southern Forests, where the tiny red cottage with the white wooden door meets the bush.
Austin was about to do his favourite thing in the whole world – a walk around the lake with his Mum. He was fascinated by the lake and how it changed, not just with the time of day but also the seasons. As the weather grew colder if you walked there early enough you could see whisps of mist dancing and rising across the surface like ghostly ballerinas. The whole lake walk was enveloped initially by a pine forest that gave way to towering marri and karri trees. The trees were so tall in fact, that Austin suspected that even the most gigantic dinosaurs couldn’t reach their tops. Even if they stood on their tippy-toes.
“Austin, hurry up!” called his Mum.
But Austin wasn’t in a hurry. He was three and a half. And at three and a half you should never be a hurry. His Mum, however, always seemed to be in a hurry. Austin scuffed his feet on the gravel path so that puffs of dust collected around him. Just like the diggers he saw with his Nanna and Grandad. He stopped to pick up a pinecone that he planned to throw in the lake. And another. And another until the pinecones cascaded out of his arms into the bed of pine needles that lined the path.
“Austin, please!” pleaded his Mum. “We haven’t got all day.”
As Austin meandered along the track he tried to walk as slow as he thought a turtle would walk. He wondered at what point he would walk so slow that he’d fall over. He looked up at the sky and soaring over the far treeline his eyes fell on something amazing. It was an eagle and he’d only ever seen one once before. He’d have to tell Dad. His Dad loved the eagles and especially the West Coast Eagles. Not so much this season though.
“Are you walking or crawling, Austin?” asked his Mum.
Although Austin thought it would be a very good test of turtle speed to crawl, he thought better of it. What he did decide to do, however, was to pick up the big wonky stick that lay across the path. You could never tell if a stick would be too long or too short for marshmallow toasting until you tested it. And for this reason, Austin decided he would need several sticks for testing which he thought was very clever indeed. He would need at least three sticks for him, and at least three for his big sister, Iris. He trudged off the path and into the bush beside the lake. A boy on a mission to find his toasting stick.
The dry leaves crunched under his gumboots and he slowed to watch the tiny fish that kept darting away from his shadow on the lake’s edge. He teetered on the edge of the gentle slope into the water. He wondered how deep he could go before his dinosaur gumboots filled up with water. He shuffled into the water a centimetre at a time. His gumboots started to cave around his ankles. Just a little bit further and the water was just below the very top of his gumboot. He grinned. WHOOSH. Water flooded into his gumboots. “ARGHHHH,” he squealed, tremendously happy with the mini waterfall he had created. His socks were wet. His gumboots were wet. His trackpants were wet. But he was thrilled.
“HONESTLY, AUSTIN!!!” exclaimed his Mum, exasperated.
Austin’s Mum plonked down next to him with thud and a huff. She’d retraced her steps to watch her son pour the water out of his sodden gumboots, his paper-white blonde hair speckled with leaf litter. His pile of discarded sticks lay next to him. His face which usually sported a cheeky grin, looked downtrodden. He was three and a half and he didn’t understand why she was always in a hurry. And rightly so.
From her spot on the ground atop a cushion of leaves she saw the flicker of a red-winged fairy wren through the gnarled undergrowth. They were endemic to the tiny town and surrounding forest, and their merry twitter was her favourite sound. But the wrens were quickly interrupted by a piercing shriek. The black cockatoos swooped in to wreak havoc on the trees above, stripping their branches of nuts in the jolliest of fashion. The birds munched and chattered happily to each other, and they screeched at anyone who dared interrupt them. They, along with the rosellas that snacked on the olive tree in the backyard, were her favourite birds, yet it was always Austin who found a feather on their walks which he proudly displayed in the copper vase in the tiny cottage.
She took in a deep breath that reached all the way to her belly and took in the familiar scent of eucalyptus. Her favourite smell, especially after it rained. In doing so, she realised that she hadn’t taken a deep breath in such a long time. She looked across the lake at the faultless reflection of the forest rising across its surface. That would make for a great jigsaw, she thought.
“Hurry up, Mum!” called Austin, from way down the track.
She got up brushing the leaves from her jeans and jogged down the gravel track to catch up with him.
When she caught up, she took his hand and they walked together just like that, taking in the scents and sounds of the forest. Their favourite place to walk.
“You know what, Austin?” she paused, picking up a stray pinecone as they came to the end of their walk.
“Let’s not hurry so much anymore.”