Spring has sprung, and one of its many joys has been the opportunity to revisit one of our very favourite places in the world ... our Magic Beach (the girls named it for Alison Lester's wonderful book, which I would highly recommend to anyone unfamiliar).
A quiet, deserted bay beach a little out from Melbourne, our magic beach is about 20 minutes drive from where we live, the latter part of which is through farmlets and market gardens and open fields.
I've never been sure why this beach doesn't attract much traffic. It's usually calm, shallow a long way out, possessed of a grassy field ideal for picnics, has white shelly sand perfect for building sandcastles with, and is a stone's throw from a bijoux marina where tiny sailing boats bob at anchor.
It has darting silver fish, interesting seaweed, is clean and safe, and is far from the madding crowd. Whenever we go, we see a few locals walking dogs, perhaps one or two children and parents out for a play, and that's all, ever, no matter what time or day.
I don't doubt that at some point, the world will catch up with our Magic Beach. No doubt it'll become popular, busy, and trendy.
For now, though, it's one of our treasures, home to many a treasured experience, and we love it dearly.