By Lauren
This one is less inspired by the place and more like exactly what happened. I was in Stanley at the time, which is a small town in north west Tasmania. It was our last stop before coming home.
The rain was light, but insistent. Tiny darts of freezing cold water competing for attention with the wind.
Like the rain, the wind was freezing and insistent. But it was definitely not light, it tore across the wild ocean, ripping hair out of braids and hats off heads, pushing at the immovable figures gathered on the platform. But the people standing there were undeterred by the wind and rain. They stood together in near-silence on the platform between the ocean and graveyard.
They did not know each other, yet they were all in the same place at the same time for the same reason. They shared that and they knew it. The people were of all different shapes, sizes and nationalities. Hidden behind hoods and beanies, their faces only ever illuminated by the dim red lights around the platform. It was night time, and the light from the moon could not compete with the clouds and fog.
But regardless of the miserable conditions, they remained. Standing together and waiting, waiting. They knew what they were waiting for, but did not know what would happen. The people stared out at the ocean, watching. Not that they knew what to watch for, only that they’d know it when they saw it.
Occationally, an arm would reach out, pointing. The people would lean forward, eyes squinting through the rain and darkness, only for the arm to pull back, sheepish after having caused a false alarm. The people leaned back, disappointed.
Then, one arm reached out, they leaned forward, and instead of falling back, another arm joined the first, pointing in the same place, then another arm, and another, followed by a chorus of “There! There!”
A tiny figure, smaller than any of the people on the platform, stood cautiously on a rock. Almost invisible in the darkness, it was given away only as a tiny, pale phantom, but even that was easily mistaken for a lighter rock.
The miniature figure on the rock moved forward, and it was like the whole ground surged with it. Then stopped.
More arms pointed in a different direction, complete with the chorus of “There! There!”
Sure enough, another tiny ghost-like figure was visible standing on the beach. The people squinted closer and saw there were more. Then the figures took another step forward, and this time, when the ground surged forward, it kept on going, until hundreds of tiny pale figures were speeding up the beach towards the platform. The people stepped back in surprise, the pale phantoms had appeared seemingly from nowhere.
One of them was almost in sight of the red lights. It stood tentatively on the edge, still phantom-like in the darkness. It took a step forward into the light and all the people gave a collective sigh.
The penguin stood perfectly still just inside the circle of red light. It seemed to stare down all the people in turn before taking another step forward. It was quickly followed by one of its buddies. Then the whole group gained confidence and hurried forward until all of the tiny penguins were waddling at high speed towards the people on the platform. Smiles lit up the concealed faces of the people, still unaffected by the wind and rain, as the speed-waddling group drew closer and closer before they disappeared under the platform.
They had waited for half an hour in the most miserable weather imaginable, yet the people still smiled after the spectacle they'd just witnessed.
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