Tag Archives: Port Elliot

Pooled

Some days the black tide seeps in (depression). Often for reasons I can’t tell or discover. It’s just suddenly there, black, often shiny, with no end of it, no beginning, no land to step back onto, no beach, no edge. … Continue reading

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Tidal Days

Tidal days, sea-foam days that curl and shapeshift, carry the heart on the wind, out and back, out and back. Horseshoe Bay, Port Elliot. Days when I see energy lines, stones that bounce and tell of tides and schools of … Continue reading

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Songs of the Moon

Drift in, notes, the songs of the moon, sometimes afloat in the memory that is blood, others that still light hugging the window when the curtains are left undrawn, and the shadows of old buildings, stone walls, a river’s murmur, … Continue reading

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Body Boarding

Hot enough yesterday for an hour body boarding in the surf at Middleton with two friends. Each of us goes our own way, finds a spot, the right depth, position ourselves where the waves come in straight and don’t cut … Continue reading

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We say hello to the old man, a German, with an equally old dog, his wizened terrier, as they make their way slowly along the path to Fisherman’s Bay, just out of Port Elliot. It’s windy, sunny, cool, cloudy, warm … Continue reading

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Returning to sea

A cool, misty morning, feathered rain a soft, delicate drizzle as I walk along the beach in Horseshoe Bay. The dog sweeps off to the small dunes checking new scents; waves swish close, then further away, closer still, never the … Continue reading

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