Castle of Dreams by Elise McCune

Author:Elise McCune
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2016-03-26T04:00:00+00:00

The next morning, after breakfast in my room, I looked at the map Maggie had given me. I wanted to take a long walk to soak up the atmosphere of the property and noted a winding creek that was not far from the hotel. I’d slept late and missed the early morning light of which I was so fond, but with the backdrop of rainforest and the lush vegetation I’d hopefully get some good shots along the creek.

When I came downstairs Maggie was on the phone, so I gave her a little wave, walked through the lobby and down the steps. I could ask her later about whether she’d had a chance to talk to Daphne. Shoving on my hat, I checked the map and headed straight along an avenue edged with soaring kauri pines and past stands of golden bamboo. The air was warm and humid and I was soon sweating.

My camera was strung around my neck. Today I wouldn’t worry about any settings or use a tripod—I was just going to take the shot. When I looked through the lens at my chosen subject, I instinctively knew if I had the essential element: magic. In the darkroom I’d sometimes watch a blank sheet of paper develop into an image and I loved the magical quality of this process.

Brushing away flies hovering around my face, I drank in my surroundings: the dappled sunshine on the rainforest plants, the strangler fig with roots growing down to envelop its host and up towards the sunlight, a multitude of flowers intertwined with the green canopy under which I walked, iridescent electric-blue Ulysses butterflies fluttering around my head. Being here, soaking up its beauty, I felt I was coming to know Mena Creek in a way I never could have by reading any brochure.

I came to the creek and walked along the mossy bank, the grass still damp from last night’s rain. I brushed past bushes with bright yellow flowers that left powdery gold on my shoulders. A breeze rustled the river red gums on the water’s edge then the morning fell still and silent except for the tumbling water. I photographed a small bridge that crossed the creek, and a turtle enjoying the sun on the opposite side.

I sat down on the bank to eat an apple I’d taken from the bowl in reception and thought again about Robert Shine. Nan had given me the silver-framed photo of him to bring with me; she said that it was a gift and to please keep it, with the caveat I’d never show it to my mother. I’d been touched by Nan’s gesture but sad I couldn’t show Robert’s photo to Mum. This morning I’d set the photo on the coffee table where the frame caught the light from the window and Robert’s dark eyes still gazed at Vivien across the years.

Throwing the apple core into the creek, I wondered if my grandfather had known about the photograph or if Nan had always kept it hidden away.

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