The smell of fresh flowers in the air, the call of birds outside, and the need to feel the powerful Australian sunshine on my skin, recently brought me back to one of my favorite beaches, along with many others.

I also decided to take up the challenge of walking from one beach to another, which involved getting around a deceptively wide rocky point.  It’s a task I’ve attempted in the past but always been turned back by a rising tide and what is probably an unreasonable fear of getting swept into the harbor.

But I decided to face my more reasonable fears of bloody toes, a lost lens cap (both of which almost happened) and the possibility of needing to be rescued by a family whose small children make the rocky scramble weekly, and headed toward the point.

All the barefoot scrambling and rock balancing with my camera in hand was going fairly well until I reached a point where what lay ahead was the rapidly closing in tide on one side . . .

. . . and imposing sandstone on the other.

I have no idea how close I got to the other beach, but alas I was turned back by the forces of nature.  I have all of spring and summer ahead of me now to make the rest of the journey.  I’ll let you know if I find a pot of gold around the next bend, assuming an Aussie dad and his five year old haven’t gotten there first.

You can see the rest of the photos from my journey on flickr.

It’s sound advice.  You don’t need to be pinned by a rock for 127 hours to have something bad happen to you while you are hiking alone.  The bushwalks through most reserve parks in central Sydney are fairly even paths, but there are no shortage of snakes, spiders, ticks and other animals that could do anything from give you a mild rash to cause paralysis.  Even walking face first into the web of a harmless arachnid, is no picnic.  And if you are anything like me, you are very likely to sprain your ankle on a tree root.

Most newbies to Australia heed every bit of advice and take every caution they can when venturing into the bush.  They wear close toed shoes, long pants, plenty of sunscreen, and bring enough water to last for days.  But once you have lived here for a while you realize that most sydneysiders treat a bushwalk like any other sidewalk, and will conduct them under any number of circumstances, occasionally even barefoot.

So when I left my apartment this afternoon, with nothing but my camera and my keys, I figured there was no harm in checking out a reserve in my neighborhood.  Wearing short pants and thongs (a.k.a. flip flops) only encouraged me to step lightly.  And though I did trip on a tree root, typical, I came out of the bush entirely unscathed.

The only real problem occurred once I had finally left the reserve, via an incredibly steep staircase, and found myself confronted with this view.

Lovely, but that bushy green island to the right had been my intended destination.  Somehow I had wandered myself to the opposite side of the bay, and now had a fairly sizable body of water between me and my apartment.  So what did I do?  I called a friend with an iphone and asked him to tell me where I was and how the hell to get back to where I had been.  Within minutes, my problem was solved and I was on my way back to a nice hot shower and cool glass of water.

So what did I learn from my sojourn into the wild today?  Don’t just hike with friends, hike with friends who have google maps on their phones.

You can see the rest of the photos from my journey on flickr.

I’m looking forward to seeing what the rest of the year has in store.

This small piece of Sydney history is just a short walk away from my apartment, placed between a sports oval, a busy hospital, and a buzzing highway.  Nonetheless the cemetery is a quite piece land, being slowly reclaimed by the nature it was built upon.

Ferries and Flowers in Lavender Bay

Runners in the Royal Botanic Gardens

Kookaburra Family on Bradley’s Head

Madness in Luna Park

Afternoon sun in the Anzac War Memorial

Boats in Broken Bay

Got Smashed on Saturday

Yesterday I was privileged to bear (bare) witness to one of Sydney’s record setting events.  During the annual AIME Strut the Streets, the world record was set for largest gathering of people wearing Budgy Smugglers.  If the term Budgy Smuggler is unfamiliar, you might want to check out the Urban Dictionary definition, before scrolling through the rest of these photos.  Consider yourself properly warned.

The event, which Gabe with his love of being semi-nude whenever possible was happy to participate in, was certainly a site to behold.  But if anything says welcome summer in true Australian style, it’s a show of proud Aussie flesh.

There were budgy smugglers of all shapes and sizes,

which people accessorized with class and whimsy.

And though some adjustments were necessary,

the event was thoroughly enjoyed by participants and confused audience alike.

You can bare witness to the rest of the event by checking out my photos on flickr.

After having been immersed in my work for quite some time, or otherwise locked indoors by the incessant rain of a Sydney winter (which always seems to start falling when I’m about three blocks away from home) I was happy to celebrate a break in the clouds with a trip to yet another undiscovered corner of Sydney.  With the last day of Sydney’s Biennale as an excuse, we took the ferry out to Cockatoo Island, one of the Sydney harbor’s many tiny islands of history and mystery.  This former site of a prison, school, reformatory and gaol is now a heritage site, park, campground and, on this occasion, home to art installations both impressive and not.  But what the art lacked the environment was able to inspire.

You can see the rest of my journey in the flickr photos.  A little art, a little industry, some welcomed sunshine and some inspiration to photograph.  What better way to spend a Sunday?

One year ago today I noticed how great the air smelled, even out by the airport.

One year ago today I saw the Opera House and crossed the Harbor Bridge for the first time.

One year ago today I saw my first glimpse of a Sydney beach.

One year ago today I had my first Aussie meat pie.

One year ago today I had no idea what any of the crazy birds outside my window were, but I was amazed at how talkative they all were.

One year ago today I got my first taste of life without insulation.

One year ago today I realized that everyone on TV had an Australian accent.

One year ago today I didn’t really understand what “harden the fuck up” meant.  Now I do.

One year ago today I was so jet-lagged I couldn’t stay up past 8:30pm.  I’ve since recovered.

Thanks for a great year, Australia.

I did participate in Earth Hour, but was away from my own apartment so I couldn’t watch as the city center went dark.  I was actually looking forward to seeing how the birthplace of the tradition would celebrate it, especially since Time Square gave such a pathetic showing last year.  I guess it will take another blackout of the entire eastern seaboard to put out all the blinking lights on 42nd Street.

This past weekend I just barely missed the homecoming of Jessica Watson the youngest person to (unofficially) sail solo around the world.  Of course, I wouldn’t have missed that had she shown up on time.  Dang teenagers.  At first I felt a sense of guilt at missing these odd, unique and occasionally historic events occurring right outside my window, then I thought about all the things I probably missed seeing every day of my life until now.

I never once saw the New Years Eve ball drop in Time Square.  I’m of the school of thought that real New Yorkers know it’s too crowded, too cold and too touristy.  We’d all rather be drinking indoors.  I never went ice skating at Rockafeller Center.  You want how much for 45 minutes?  My gracefulness belongs on cheaper ice.  And even though we made a yearly tradition of watching the parade balloons getting inflated the night before, there was no way in hell I was getting up at the crack of dawn to actually watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

But my life is not lacking.  Something interesting probably happens in every city in the world every single day.  I won’t let the drive to experience the goings on in this lovely city die, but I won’t drive myself crazy trying to catch every event that might just happen to cruise by my window.  For every event I miss a spontaneous fireworks show occurs.  There was a lovely one just a few hours ago.  Someone must have been really happy it was Monday.