Winter in Central Queensland, Australia. Clear skies. 24oC daytime, 12oC overnight. I have just alighted from a passenger ferry alongside a couple of dozen fellow Central Queensland writers, returning from the North Keppel Island Writers’ Retreat. The weekend offers an annual pilgrimage for creative thinking, contemplation and stimulation on a pristine, tropical island, otherwise known as Kanomi. It’s unencumbered by roads and vehicles, high-rises and the hectic pace of everyday life. Here, a dozen cabins, solar and wind-powered, nestle around the bay and are witness to sunset over the mainland each eve. An ivory moon rises. Ospreys soar overhead and marine turtles glide along in the aqua-blue sea, unperturbed by our gaze. Paperbark trees line the swampland, lemon-scented gums secure the ridges. The island was once home, before European settlement, to the Kanomi People, their middens telling the story, in layers, of the rich food source found in bush and sea.

But for now, as I re-orbit into the familiarity of my mainland surroundings, it’s the rich friendships cultivated over return visits to Kanomi, the songs on the theme of ‘writing resilience’ created by the group as a whole, the memory of the woman who instigated the retreats more than a decade ago which linger, foremost in my mind. Life is rich, all the more so by a stint in nature and with simplicity. A chance to pause, to recharge, to thank my lucky stars for being alive. Long may Kanomi last.