Oysters are a symbol of my childhood because every day we’d go to the beach and either look for them on the rocks or we’d walk over them or they’d simply be there and we’d acknowledge them and go about our playing. I’d watch and help (mostly just get in the way) while the boys untangled the fish nets and set them out in the low tide or drag them out of the mud. I can still feel the damp sand under my feet and smell the mud and salty breeze. Life was so simple then.
We’d grab the fish and crabs out of the net and mum and my Aunty would sit by the fire and yarn. We’d go all around the bush and search for branches and sticks to put on the bonfire, careful to avoid snakes and rogue dogs. I never wore shoes.
I can feel the heat from the fire and the taste of the crab and lemon on my tongue. The mosquitos were vicious but the smoke would help clear them somewhat.