As the youngest by six years, in a family of six, I missed out on a lot of the family holidays my father took everyone on. A lot of them were spent by a little-known high country lake of exceeding beauty, Lake Heron. The whole family used to camp there in summer and take winter trips there. There is photo after photo of happy children enjoying the lake, families bonding, dignified yet joyful photos that bubbled over with a sense of an experience. I looked at the photo albums with jealousy, wondering why we didn't go there anymore very much and I didn't feature in this attractive set of photos of my family doing interesting things.
Well, I had my chance to join the Lake Heron photo albums, on a winter trip in, hmm, 1996-ish? The sole photo featuring me is this one. Unfortunately, I was going through a phase of doing the V-sign for photos. So, another scene of awe-inspiring beauty, ruined by a ten-year-old girl in orange pants and a tartan Swanndri, doing the V-sign. Hardly the effect I had imagined.