Oil on canvas

30 by 30 cms

We drive down to Phillip Island, just for the penguins. In they come, bearing food from the sea, to a rapturous welcome from their young. Sitting there on a windswept wooden bench, in the light of a full-moon, I think of my grandfather and my grandmother, how they loved nature, the sea and in their own way, us.

Next day I ask my father if he ever went to Phillip Island as a boy, to see the penguins, and he said yes, we holidayed there.

I think my grandparents spoke to me that night, put their ghostly arms around me and told me not to worry, that we will all be caught up in the air together one day, not so very long from now.