It's a kinda magic

"I want to see the place where you got married with Daddy."

A random request. A reminder that we haven't been there for years. And so, we drove up the mountain, the three and a half of us.

There's this thing when you've been together as long as we have. When you're parents together.

And when another human is inhabiting your body, when you feel your space is so enclosed already that as someone else comes near you, you just push them away.

Walking through those gates I always feel a sense of calm. I remember driving in there that afternoon, feeling that same sense of peace.

I remember being asked if I felt nervous. "Not even a little bit," I answered. Excited, yes. Worried about being the centre of attention all day, yes. Nervous, no.

I was exactly where I should be. With the person I was meant to be there with. Simple as that.

The gardens are beautiful, but still when you walk in there's no sense of what lies further in.

These are the Alfred Nicholas Memorial Gardens, in Sherbrooke here in the Dandenong Ranges. It was once the summer residence of the man who developed the Aspro painkiller, and the property has had several uses (including a children's hospital during the war) until it was put into the hands of Parks Victoria and opened for public enjoyment.

When we first came here we were just out for a wander, a place to breathe against the heat of the day.

Then we came to the lake.

"Let's get married here."

We were married in summer, nine years ago, on the small island on the lake. A string trio played as the people most important to us gathered.

I smiled at my husband-to-be as I walked over the bridges to reach his side.

There's something magical about a place that gives you such hope, you want to promise another person you will love them forever.

There's this thing when you're in the place we are in right now. A bit of magic is just what's needed.