Returning to Sydney from Hobart to spend time with family and friends is usually a joyful journey but a fortnight ago I returned with heavy heart to be with my father for the last time. He died peacefully surrounded by his family after being diagnosed with cancer 18 months earlier.
Sitting waiting for the plane, a small child wandered over purposefully – the flowers from my garden that I had tucked in my bag had caught his eye – he stretched out his tiny hand and gently touched them. For me it was a poignant moment – a life just beginning in contrast to a life about to end.
Six years ago my parents moved to live by the sea, and like me my father began a creative ritual – his was photographing the seascape out the window – sunrises and sunsets, sailboats, stormy seas, full moons and rainbows.
He inspired in all of us a love of nature and to see the everyday beauty around us. My earliest gardening memories are helping him plant forget-me-nots and my garden in Hobart has many things he planted or struck from cuttings when visiting.
These are some of his wonderful photos and this post is dedicated to him.