Today the wind blows from the coast, across the flat land between the coast and the hills behind, and the strains of music from the Blues Fest with it. I hear the all-pervasive drumbeat, and voices. Whether of singers or the cheering crowd, I don't know. My hearing isn't that good.
We're probably about 6 kilometres away as a crow would fly, if there still are any in the area. I wonder how the flying foxes are coping with the nightly noise. They are an amazing sight every night between about six and eight pm, and it is amazing to be able to stand under the flight path of tens of thousands of flying foxes winging their way purposefully to their nightly feeding grounds.
I presume they come from Ocean Shores where there is a big camp, fly over the highway, south easterly across this town. Many individuals drop off into the fig trees everywhere ripe with autumn fruit. But seeming to make directly for Tyagarah, where the Blues Festival is roaring day and night.
The fly-over seems to happen so silently. When actually there is all that echo-location going on. The animals navigating and keeping themselves from flying into their friends and kin. Frequently some animal will leave its place in the stream and circle back to join it elsewhere.
It's quiet apart from the noise coming over the flats. It's the Easter holidays and for a wonder it isn't raining. Everyone is either at the Blues Festival or they're camping. Or they're at home, waiting for visitors. Filling in the odd spot of time with a writerly doodle. Because I'm find it difficult to concentrate on the work in progress.
Not that it is stalled. Just at a difficult part that needs a couple of uninterrupted hours whenever I sit down to it. Once I have finished rewriting the introductory three chapters -- set Srese, the main character, up in her re modelled adventures -- I don't intend there to be any rewriting other than correcting glitches. So while I probably won't make the end of April completing Instalment Two, it won't take all of May, either.