By Etsuko Yasunaga
I USUALLY walk to and from my French class in the town centre. Heavy rain was forecast on the day. I also slept in. A return trip from my house to the café by foot is around 6 km. There was no choice but to drive to be on time for the start of the class. After the class I drove to the rotunda, and decided to head east to one of my favourite walks in Inverloch: Screw Creek-Townsend Bluff Estuary Walk.
In spite of the heavy rain warning, the sky hadn’t opened by mid-morning. The walk was exceptionally calm and pleasant in the moist and humid air. How many times have I walked this path since I moved to Inverloch? I have lost count.
I USUALLY walk to and from my French class in the town centre. Heavy rain was forecast on the day. I also slept in. A return trip from my house to the café by foot is around 6 km. There was no choice but to drive to be on time for the start of the class. After the class I drove to the rotunda, and decided to head east to one of my favourite walks in Inverloch: Screw Creek-Townsend Bluff Estuary Walk.
In spite of the heavy rain warning, the sky hadn’t opened by mid-morning. The walk was exceptionally calm and pleasant in the moist and humid air. How many times have I walked this path since I moved to Inverloch? I have lost count.
If it is low tide, I often walk on the beach instead of going through the foreshore camping ground. Sometimes I extend my walk to the yellow buoy before I reach the entrance of the walk. I love this walk because it’s usually very quiet even in the height of holiday season. The picturesque boardwalk over the creek where you can find soldier crabs, a sweeping view of Andersons Inlet, and the magnificent gum tree where you may see a residential koala are some delights in this nature walk. I believe that the beauty of the native trees, shrubs, salt marsh and mangroves makes us introspective. I especially cherish the quality of the light amongst the tea-tree when I quietly walk down the path in the afternoon.
“Trish…Trish… Where are you?” I heard a faint calling on my way back. An elderly gentleman was walking slowly, calling into the nearby bush. Intrigued, I stopped. To be precise, there was something pressing about him that made me stop. I couldn’t walk past him without finding out more. When I looked closely into his gentle face, I saw tears in his eyes. Then I realised. He was looking for Patricia. I acknowledged his loss and anguish and told him how sorry I was. The inadequacy I felt was heavy to bear. He started to talk. His name was Noel*, and he is a very good friend of Trish. There had been an extensive search for her at Townsend Bluff earlier on as she was last sighted there.
Nearly a week had passed since she had gone missing. He thought if she heard a familiar voice call her name, she may think to come out of the bush. So he walks along the path whenever he can, calling her name. His tender heart brought tears to my eyes. I was heartbroken. I couldn’t console him at all. On that instance a missing lady, Patricia, was no longer a stranger to me. She could easily have been my mum, someone’s grandma or a sister or a best friend. Patricia suddenly became so personal and closer to me through my connection with Noel. He told me Trish was an avid walker. “My body is strong, just my mind is bit foggy sometimes,” she had told him. Noel himself suffers from asthma, he told me. I was relieved when he showed me his Ventolin puffer in his pocket. We talked for a while.
Our encounter was such a brief one, and I could have chosen not to cross my path with his. Although it was heart-rending to hear his words, I felt I was meant to be there for him. He needed someone to listen to his tale. I had to be perfectly present with him considering the seriousness of the matter. I had to stay present with his suffering. He was such a gentle soul. At the end of our conversation, naturally we held each other’s hands. Once again I told him how deeply sorry I was. I also told him that the whole Inverloch community was praying for her. He held my hands firmly and thanked me for having listened to him. We understood each other. We could have stayed there longer without saying a word.
It was a difficult parting, but eventually I had to let go of his hands then we went separate ways. From now on every time I come to this place I can’t help but think of Noel and his friend Trish. His loss and grief may sadden me but I’m still appreciative of this chance meeting with Noel. Why? Because it reminded me of humanity – how valuable and important empathy and compassion are, especially in the time of others’ suffering. They make the world a warmer place. Having those qualities certainly make it possible for us to connect with others on a deeper and profound level.
“You can only understand people if you feel them in yourself.” – John Steinbeck
* Not his real name
“Trish…Trish… Where are you?” I heard a faint calling on my way back. An elderly gentleman was walking slowly, calling into the nearby bush. Intrigued, I stopped. To be precise, there was something pressing about him that made me stop. I couldn’t walk past him without finding out more. When I looked closely into his gentle face, I saw tears in his eyes. Then I realised. He was looking for Patricia. I acknowledged his loss and anguish and told him how sorry I was. The inadequacy I felt was heavy to bear. He started to talk. His name was Noel*, and he is a very good friend of Trish. There had been an extensive search for her at Townsend Bluff earlier on as she was last sighted there.
Nearly a week had passed since she had gone missing. He thought if she heard a familiar voice call her name, she may think to come out of the bush. So he walks along the path whenever he can, calling her name. His tender heart brought tears to my eyes. I was heartbroken. I couldn’t console him at all. On that instance a missing lady, Patricia, was no longer a stranger to me. She could easily have been my mum, someone’s grandma or a sister or a best friend. Patricia suddenly became so personal and closer to me through my connection with Noel. He told me Trish was an avid walker. “My body is strong, just my mind is bit foggy sometimes,” she had told him. Noel himself suffers from asthma, he told me. I was relieved when he showed me his Ventolin puffer in his pocket. We talked for a while.
Our encounter was such a brief one, and I could have chosen not to cross my path with his. Although it was heart-rending to hear his words, I felt I was meant to be there for him. He needed someone to listen to his tale. I had to be perfectly present with him considering the seriousness of the matter. I had to stay present with his suffering. He was such a gentle soul. At the end of our conversation, naturally we held each other’s hands. Once again I told him how deeply sorry I was. I also told him that the whole Inverloch community was praying for her. He held my hands firmly and thanked me for having listened to him. We understood each other. We could have stayed there longer without saying a word.
It was a difficult parting, but eventually I had to let go of his hands then we went separate ways. From now on every time I come to this place I can’t help but think of Noel and his friend Trish. His loss and grief may sadden me but I’m still appreciative of this chance meeting with Noel. Why? Because it reminded me of humanity – how valuable and important empathy and compassion are, especially in the time of others’ suffering. They make the world a warmer place. Having those qualities certainly make it possible for us to connect with others on a deeper and profound level.
“You can only understand people if you feel them in yourself.” – John Steinbeck
* Not his real name