Monday was a public holiday in northern Tasmania. Regardless of the weather, I decided to go walking at Cradle. God must have smiled upon us for He sent a spring blizzard on Saturday and Sunday, followed by a perfect heavenly day of sunshine and blue skies on Monday. Hallelujah!
I left quickly. A few hundred metres along the snow covered track to Kitchen Hut, where many of those noisy people would inevitably be headed, I checked that no one would see me, and I left the track. I headed off into the snowy wilderness, alone, to find Kathleen's Pool.
I had only ever seen Kathleen's Pool in the distance from the track, and I had long wanted to experience it up close. There is no track to Kathleen's Pool. She is truly beautiful.
Morning tea. Sun warming my back and the sound of lapping water on the shore and against the ice floating on the surface.
I circumnavigated Kathleen and wandered and meandered alone across the plateau for the next three hours, picking my way carefully through the snow.The only sounds were the breeze in my ears and a couple of currawongs calling as they landed nearby.
A solitary pandani, growing alone, higher than any other of its species.
Lunch overlooking Cradle Mountain, far above the people lunching in front of Kitchen Hut at the foot of Cradle.
Most of the lunchers had left by the time I passed Kitchen Hut. There were people up on the side of Cradle coo-ee-ing and urging each other to be careful. I was amazed by how far their voices carried.
The cloud lifted off Barn Bluff. I continued wandering.
The snow was melting. The morning fog had gone. The sky was stunning. The snow was slushy along the main track where many had trudged. My feet were wet but I was very warm. I had stripped down to my singlet top. (Plus pants and boots, of course!)
Sadly, I had to leave. I had to return to the downlands, but I felt uplifted and rejuvenated. Ideas and words had formed in my mind. I was inspired.
