On Sunday the girls spent a few hours making their own mark at the farm. They dragged logs around, piling then up, shifting them this way and that, rolling a log over to make it a little higher. To an onlooker it was clear they were very busy, but what were they doing?
They were creating a jumping course for their horses. After over an hour of lifting and shifting, and trying them out as human horses, they rode their horses around the course.
It’s funny – I had been a little disappointed that their initial attempts to build a little shelter in the trees had been abandoned. But I realise that their love of horseriding means they experience a sense of place quite differently to how I did as a kid. I remember when I was about their age, Brooke Wilson and I would create fantastical tree houses in the Moreton Bay Figs near the tennis court where Mum played every Saturday afternoon. I still see trees for their tree house potential.
I’m so happy to see the girls making their own mark on the place. I’m learning to just let it be – to let people experience things in their own way rather than trying to push my way of seeing things onto them. It’s something I’ll try to keep reminding myself of.
Right now I’m with Jules, Millie and Molly at Cataract Gorge. I’m loving the giant conifer trees I’m perched beside as I write. The girls are in the playground and turning cartwheels on the grass. Everyone’s happy. We’re all enjoying this place by experiencing it in the ways we each prefer.