At one point along yesterday’s journey, we stopped to grab a geocache. It promised a great view and the hint indicated that it lay behind a dormant ants’ nest. We pulled off at the indicated parking area, at the Flambro Head Heritage Society Look Out/Rest Stop, found the trail head and started towards the cache.

Came around the corner of the trail and saw this:

The we grabbed children very firmly, pulled Rowan-pup strictly into heel (she was already on-leash) and proceeded very, very carefully.

Nothing bad happened. Nothing bad at all.

The kids were very safe. The dog was extremely safe. The adults were obsessively safe.

Still, it was one of those locations that, when I think about it, causes a horrible twisting feeling in my stomach and my shoulders knot right up. If you’re a parent, you know that sensation. It’s the one you get when you think of what irreversibly awful thing could possible happen to your kid and then you immediately shake yourself and think sensible thoughts of pulling up dandelions or sorting the recycling or anything perfectly mundane and safe, safe, safe.

But nothing happened, the kids and dogs were sensible. No one went near an edge nor near anything that might have been undercut.

I’m still twitching now, thinking about the height and proximity to depth. The view was worth it, though.

You can see the sea arch in the photo above, but here’s another shot. It was a perfectly splendid day. The ocean was feigning a tropical air and the light was dancing everywhere.

We didn’t find the geocache first or last. John and I crawled through the brush looking, but as I was in sandals, my enthusiasm for being anywhere near the truly massive and very non-dormant ants’ nest was somewhat…. uninspired. I was happy enough to leave the clifftop and the insects, taking only some nice photos and dramatic memories.