Mimosa Rocks - Picnic Point

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A jewel of a campground. Very small, with the usual residents. Possums and goannas, that is. Twitching becomes second nature as the bird book and binoculars are overworked in this bird-filled haven.

Bordering Lake Wapengo this National Parks site doesn't even have a camping sign off the main road. In fact a closed date nearly sent us skedaddling back the way we came until we spotted the green National Parks sign for Picnic Point. Still no camping icon - which was fortunate for us as there were campsites spare.

We could have had ocean views but a resident camper told us that the rains ran down the track and flooded that site. Relieved to have the choice made for us we retreated back a site to where the banksias bloom and hammocks could swing.

Oceans crashed and the sun shone. Graeme even managed a wave or two. Far too brutal for me to consider a dip but I kept my eye out for a small warm rock-pool which I managed to find on our second day.

I needed to remove the elderly couple already wallowing in it and conjured up plans to make them evacuate. Shouting fire didn't seem fair and anyway they probably wouldn't have moved, being in a safe place. Eventually the time it took for me to walk around the track loop sufficed for them to realise I wanted a turn and by the time I had taken Graeme back with me they had gone. Ah, little waves, protected by sea rocks from the large swells.

We walked along the beach and clambered over rocks around the head to a quiet, well deserted really, beach where the temptation for naturist swimming was too great to overcome!

The end of the holiday. Our last night saw us star gazing. Sharing the magnificence of the night sky we wandered hand in hand down to the beach one last time. A shooting star would have been perfect but a greater treat awaited us. As we stood on the rock shelf of this perfect beach on this perfect night rolling scrolls of phosphorescent aqua caught our eye. As the waves broke off shore they gleamed and glistened.

I remembered another time when I first beheld this miraculous sight and how I had stamped on the sand as the waves rolled in. As if reading my mind Graeme walked to the shore and all at once we were no longer watching the starts, we were walking in them. Trousers rolled up, we laughed and splashed as the little phosphorescent beasties performed their magic, powered up their little energy stations and spattered our feet and ankles in pinpricks of starshine.

I truly felt part of the universe albeit an insignificant part but it did bring a whole new level of meaning to 'Dancing with the Stars.'

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Photos

An aussie picnic
Can't have one without a fly!