The Mysterious Grandeur of The 12 Apostles.

 

Although having lived in Victoria, Australia, for many years, I have never ventured out to see these marvelous rock formations so named The 12 Apostles. Of course, have seen pictures in many “Tourism’ advertisements in the newspaper and on television over time; however, the opportunity never presented itself to witness these natural wonders.

We set out in the early morning after breakfast along The Great Ocean Road towards Port Campbell, the home of this holy site. The drive was pleasant enough, the scenery a blend of rainforest and cattle-grazing green pastures.

We arrived only a 90-minute journey from Apollo Bay with blue skies and moderate winds. Many tourists could be seen walking on the man-made pathways along the edge of the cliffs, peering out over the coastline, gazing in utter amazement at these strange rock formations of a seeming brittle-like sandstone composition, jutting out from the ocean like Excalibur, like ruins from an ancient civilization.

Because my intent on this trip was to immerse myself in the sights and sounds of the environment, I brought out my sketchbook and started to draw these unusual rocks. Finding the appropriate position, a comfortable perspective, my pen began to scratch in earnest along with the page. During these moments, time slows down to a leisurely crawl; the “outside world” diminishes to almost nothing, and all that exists is the object of my study.

Suddenly a tap on the shoulder interrupted my concentration, and looking down, a little girl stood there looking up at me and asked, “Are you an artist?”

Feeling a little off-balance, I said, “Sometimes.”

“Can I see your picture?”

Bending down, I showed her the half-drawn sketch. She blushed and smiled, running off, I assume, searching for her mother. Resuming the drawing, a few minutes later, another tap on the shoulder, and this time a middle-aged woman, slightly on the chunky side wearing a bright red ski jacket, asked, “Sorry, can I ask what you’re doing?”

“Trying to draw a different perspective of the rocks.”

I sounded annoyed because she said, “Sorry, it looks terrific.” Then, thanking her for the compliment, she strolled off in the opposite direction. I found this question a little strange because I thought it was obvious what I was doing.

Time passed, and in the background, I could hear an assortment of various languages: German, Japanese, Malaysian, and French. Though not understanding any of them, their tone was the same, amazement at these mysterious rocks along a beautiful coastline.

There is something timeless and mysterious about the rocks: The sound of the surf and constant tide, slowly pushing the coastline back further and further inland. At the risk of sounding banal and clichéd, nothing is more accurate to form than nature’s art; these rocks are individual sculptures, specifically molded, created by the hands of the sea.

My first experience with The Twelve Apostles was much more than a pleasure; it was an event to remember.