Sunday, December 21, 2025

Jellyfish & Jacarandas

Summer officially began on December 1st, though Melbourne eased into it slowly. 


 


The purple jacarandas peaked mid-month.


 


The ongoing jellyfish bloom has made ocean swimming a challenge for me. Lion's mane and blubber jellies deliver relatively mild stings, though the larger ones are still intimidating to encounter in the water. Blue bottles are another story—more painful and harder to avoid. Floating on the surface with a little sail, they're driven almost entirely by the wind. Offshore winds push them away from the coast, which is why beaches are often clearer after northerlies. If you are stung, skip the vinegar: rinse with seawater, then treat with hot water.

 

A 6-km training swim on the Mornington Peninsula was good fun, but we are all hoping for better conditions in the new year.


The end of year is a busy time at work, so Tom and I penciled in a couple nights out. We joined friends Nadia and Ryan for a candlelight ballet at Collingwood Town Hall, where a string quartet performed Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake, Sleeping Beauty, and The Nutcracker. 

 

The following weekend, we went to see The Nutcracker ballet at Princess Theatre with Jorge and Katya.


On the summer solstice, the sun reached its highest point in the sky, with nearly 15 hours of daylight. From this moment, the light has already begun its slow turn back. Like many changes in life, it is almost imperceptible at first. In time, we begin to notice. 


Across the world, this day has long been honored as a time of strength and fullness. In mythology, the sun stands at its most powerful before beginning its gradual descent—a reminder that abundance always carries change within it.

 

A swim mate reminded me that this is the perfect time to acknowledge the year so far: what has grown, what has come to fruition, and what is ready to change. The solstice is a quiet pivot—a moment to pause at the height of flight and make space for awareness, gratitude, and the natural rhythm of change.