Thur 22nd sept Day 26 - Atherton - Lake Tinaroo

The day of Mourning for Queen Elizabeth II, bright and sunny. 

The family managed to settle on a decision of a trip to lake Tinaroo, where there is a decent playground and ample grass for picnicking. The area between the road and the water was dotted with groups doing just that. The Lake is a reservoir for much of the area, including where Papa grew up. 

During the wet season, it was the water released from this dam that determined localised flooding at many low bridges along the Barron river, including the one near the end of Oakforest rd, forcing sensible people to drive the ‘back way’, taking up to three hours in poor conditions. Others would cross in a tinnie if it looked safe. Many people would just cross in a beat up 4WD if the bridge could be seen and only the causeway was under. No one had heard of the phrase “if it's flooded, forget it” and with the knowledge we have now, it's a wonder people did not die. 

Before lake Tinaroo was built in 1958, the Barron river was a creature of annual boom and bust; the dry season reduced its bed to a series of muddy pools between glossy black rocks and coarse river sand. During the wet it bulged and flexed, a reddish muscular cord, testing its banks, taming the tangled forest. The Lake put a hold on that willful volatility, and the water now runs all year round, and even the worst rain depressions barely raise an eyebrow. Unless you live near the low crossings that is. Tinaroo was the place for school camps, fishing, day trips for picnics, and in this 3rd year of La Nina, it was full, and ringed with greenery, and teaming with recreational day trippers. 

The sunny day brought out many speed boats, carving the still water, weaving between long drowned trees, dragging inflatables piled with youths. 

Our family took a more relaxed approach - Sandwiches, fruit and cuppas spread on a couple of blankets. 

The eldest cousin followed the shade with their sketch book while the mob of younger cousins were working out their social hierarchy in the playground. Nastya spent her time being passed from Bonny to Aunty Heather. 

Papa dragged out the guitar after food, with the tunes punctuated occasionally by one of the young cousins providing an update on playground politics. 

Queensland in September seems awash with inexpensive and delicious strawberries, eating them by the handful is a state passtime. We all tried playing and singing some nursery rhymes and some midnight oil, but play time in the park was getting a bit fractious, so parent envoys were dispatched. A half hour of conflict resolution, swinging the kids higher than strictly necessary, and spinning them on a tall rope hung roundabout contraption finished off the outing nicely. 

At home, Sasha got a further surprise, with the arrival of extra young humans, O and S, visiting with Kai’s daughter T. 

O and Sasha were playing beautifully from the start, and S was quite taken with Nastya. 

The journey to bed was a slow but happy one, and it was only the busy day ahead bringing the night to a close. 

Sasha’s favourite part of the day was playing with all the junior relatives. Happy days.