Beneath our feet, the dense and springy moss creeps to the lake’s edge. Our warm coats repel the chill while we watch the sunset cast pink and mauve over the ranges, deepening shadows to violet. The peaks fall into blackness. In the press of night, the lake gathers up the cold. Against the dimming sky, cockatoos screech as they fly to their roosts. A wombat waddles into view and pademelons emerge to start their nightly forage.
We retreat indoors to a glass of red and an open fire.
Huon pine
housing two thousand years
of growth rings