The Brisbane of today though had grown upwards and out, become over run by traffic, with suburbs stretching out into the countryside; the city centre became a concrete maze of high rise and freeways. No wonder we found ourselves looking forward to a day we could turn our backs on city life and smog, and settle instead into the simple, healthy life of a Straddie Islander.
We soon revelled in the sea change, breathing in the sweet fragrance of eucalypt trees, appreciating the beauty of the native flora, getting close and personal to the local birds.
I looked in wonder, and still do, at the curlews, the noisy and colourful rainbow lorikeets, the raucous kookaburra’s; felt the overwhelming sense of communication when a wallaby or kangaroo hopped into view, or a koala peered down from above.
|Here Neighbour John and our son contemplate a tricky ocean swell||.|
But once on the island it meant an endless feast of drives through the island’s interior, exploring the rain forest at its southernmost extremity, swimming and rope diving into the deep freshwater lakes that abound on Straddie. Every weekend became a house party complete with house guests from town.