Growing up as a child in Warrandyte during the 1960s was a wonderful time. We had a river frontage property on the Yarra. Koornong Crescent was like a private retreat at the end of a windy, dusty road about a mile and a half north of the village. There were ten houses and twelve properties, two had been burnt out during the bushfires in 1962 and hadn’t been re built on. Every one knew each other and spent time out outside, not only in their own gardens, but in the surrounding bush and by the river.
Our house was the first in the crescent and at the end was the most idyllic swimming hole. There was a track that meandered through towering gums, teatree, bracken and wattle along the edge of the river. At the top of the sandy banks that led to the water was the most magnificent, gigantic ghost gum. It shone brightly in the summer sun making the trunk look iridescent silver. The sight of that tree signalled arrival and exhilaration. There was a sandy beach glittering with fool’s gold and a grassy area behind. Upstream the water was like glass, clear and shallow, which led to a row of rocks that spanned the entire width of the river. Rapids flowed unpredictably fast from the furthest part along the opposite side where tall reeds grew along the water’s edge. Slightly downstream several large dark grey, smooth rocks protruded from the surface of the water, resembling hippopotamus. They were perfect for lying on and diving from. Many Summer hours and days were spent at this glorious location.
The track leading back to home had all sorts of intriguing places to explore, fallen logs, covered in thick moss during Winter were perfect structures for building huts on, using branches and bracken to make a roof. When it was time to go home, my grandmother would ring a little brass hand bell that would sound through the air from a great distance.
All seasons held their beauty. Autumn where the light was golden, maiden hair fern grew in the shadows of larger growth. Collecting mushrooms was a favourite occupation. Wattle in bloom was a sight to behold. The Winter days meant log fires and hot soup. We used to collect the wood from the surrounding bush. I learned to swing an axe and use a saw. Spring saw tiny wild orchids in exotic colours and fields of snowdrops, jonquils and daffodils on the larger properties nearby. Summer was the river, my favourite time of the year. Bright blue skies, hot sun and long days. Freshly picked blackberries by the bucket load! I remember the warm ripe taste and my stained purple lips. The blackberry pies my grandmother made were heaven. Fishing, mostly redfin and black fish, the occasional brown or rainbow trout was another way to spend many outside hours. Catching tadpoles in the creek was fun, taking them home and watching them grow into frogs.
That part of Warrandyte was pristine and so are my memories of being a child at Koornong Crescent.
Jennet Vecchi 2010
