Equinox by Eileen Haley
They’re at the mouth of the creek now, where it joins Ironbark Cove. The old sandstone seawalls are still in place here, though there is, as usual, much talk at council about getting rid of them. Heritage vs environment. Sid says if sea levels rise much more the issue will be merely academic. As usual, he reminds everybody that this is still a creek. A section of the creek that drowned when the ocean rose 10,000 years ago.
That’s right, says a very distant voice in Gracie’s head; and for a moment – just for a moment – Gracie sees it that way. A freshwater creek flowing through bushland to join a freshwater Parramatta River, with the sea 40 kilometres to the east.Tweet
The old sandstone blocks of the seawall are covered in healthy growths of mussels and oysters, and there are several little groups of people harvesting them, under the discreet but alert supervision of a couple of blokes in pale blue tunics, the uniform of the Ironbark Cove Seafood Collective. The watchers know Palin personally and give him a wave as the canoe party paddles past. The council’s very strict – and needs to be – on the subject of sustainable harvesting in the harbour. Not everybody understands the concept, even now.
Eileen Haley is a Sydney-based writer, quilter, translator, witch, and crone. She was born in Brisbane and studied literature at uni long, long ago. She has longstanding connections to Latin America – Mexico in particular – and an abiding love of magic realism. She has had two books published: Memories of an Australian Girlhood (with Lillian Rosser; short stories, Hecate Press) and Full Circle (poetry, Ginninderra Press). She follows the Wheel of the Year in a neopagan devotional practice. She takes part in demos against Adani, posts on social media, mends her clothes, drinks Cuban rum, hangs out with her partner and adult son, goes for occasional walks along the Hawthorne Canal and around Iron Cove. She yearns for Utopia.