Confusing as a cuttlefish

There are more things in heaven and earth,

And therefore as a stranger give it welcome

Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy

Hamlet

Snowvember. The first snow back home. A blanket of pristine white covering all, pretty to look at…from the safe distance of my sunny backyard patio. Soon turning into wet, grey November slush, I can’t say I miss it too much. Yet, there is something strangely bewildering about a November day without the cold and gray, the rain and gloom. November in Downunder with its November sun, trying to confuse me. Confuse me like a cuttlefish.

I’m a November baby. All my life, birthdays were gray and bleak and often filled with fine drizzling rain. Red strawberries on my birthday cake the only spot of color on a gloomy day. 

Happy Birthday in Downunder?  Blue skies and a perfect sunrise. Crazy hats and skimpy dresses. Melbourne Cup. Nup the Cup. Taylor Swift cancelling her performance to protest animal cruelty. A 29 year old international celebrity replaced by two local singers performing an Australian classic that was a hit when I was her age! You’re the voice…. Australia’s unofficial national anthem. Who knew.

Trying to get into a bar to cheer me on as I was moving forward on my journey of aging, proved to be harder as expected. Pubs closed for private functions, or packed with best dressed racing fans, we finally were able to settle down at a sun drenched table in a beautiful place surrounded by beautiful people. Getting old never felt worse.

November birthday. A  – what should be – somber month, the beginning of winter, the spirits of the dead, hiding behind dark sunnies and bright orange mimosas. 

Sunshine and a walk on the beach. The soft surf playing with my feet in the sand. Mystical white oval shells. Cuttlefish shells. Cuttlebones, to be exact. A schulp (I had to have that one looked up). As mystifying and perplexing as November in Downunder. 

Confusing as a cuttlefish. By changing its color, and accurately replicating the shape and environment to camouflage, it tries to confuse you. 

Australia is a very confusing place. And not only because November doesn’t feel like it should.

For starters: it’s continent, island, and country – all in one. 

Its wildlife is confusing – well we have talked about that. Either poisonous or odd. Spiders, and snakes. Wombats, and platypus. 

And even the beaches here are confusing: possibly the nicest and best in the entire world, they are also extremely dangerous. Sharks, stinging jellyfish, stonefish, and surf boarders. Only the beauty of the sunrise makes taking the risk worthwhile.

Considering all these hardships –  the heat, the dangers, the wombats – you would think the people living in Australia are as sad and gray as a rainy November day. 

Instead, they are friendly and happy, cheerful and always willing to share a kind word with a stranger. Never ever have I had so many good wishes come my way. Hugs, and flowers, chocolates, and presents chasing my state of confusion, my hidden November blues away. 

I once read that the only correct answer to “So, howya’ like our country eh?’ is “Best (insert your own regional swear word here) country in the world!”

Best bloody place on earth, bar none, strewth! Confusing or not.