Direct Sunlight

Direct Sunlight

Sometimes, it's an accidental discovery.

We spent Easter with friends in the small town of Mudgee, New South Wales - a 4h drive from Sydney, over the Blue Mountains - but it was an artwork I'd stumbled across days before, down a laneway near home, that stuck in my mind while I was there.

DIRECT SUNLIGHT, it read - painted on the street, in an alley so narrow it would hardly ever actually get sun, except the way it did when I was there: bounced off the windows of a building.

But the rest of us do, in this country. You can hardly avoid it.

It defines the place.

Take a Hike


As the kids get older, it's getting harder each year to do something together with the five of us. Holidays yes, sharing a great meal, sure ... but conflicting schedules, abilities and interests don't make it easy to find something we all enjoy for a full day.  So whenever the stars all align and we get to do such an activity, I enjoy it greatly. Last week a friend took us for a day hike to the High Fens.

When we arrived it was bitter cold and the puddles were coated with a tin sheet of ice. But the landscape was breathtaking and we had it pretty much all to ourselves. As the day went on and the miles passed under our boots, it got warmer and at the end we even enjoyed that spring feeling. 

I'm sure the hike was pretty challenging for a 10 year old, rather boring for a 13 year old and way too easy for a 15 year old. But the fact that all of us are willing to compromise a bit in order to enjoy it as a family means the world to me. 

This hike was a present to me from my kids and my girlfriend. It was also a reward for me by the guy who's trying to get me back in shape. I've been working out, changing my eating habits and optimizing my routines under the watchful eye of Bert (good name) for close to a month now. I still have a long way to go and a lot of hard work in front of me. But this hike showed me that I've already improved a great deal. 

It feels great to enjoy hikes again and it's even greater with the support of my family.