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Every time I go to the beach near my place, I think “Oh well, I suppose there’ll be nothing new.” Today the creek is open and the Tuross River north of Blackfellows Beach flooded. Sea mist rises like smoke at the end of the beach; the sky is layered with clouds and blue: and creek and ocean fight it out in a roiling of tea, khaki and white, courtesy of the flooded Tuross River. Seaweed is wreathed in bubble-mesh, a tracery over its shapes and holes, instead of offering its usual dark strappy gleam. The sea is murky and deposits mud on the beach at the tideline. But the mud is lacy, a delicate deep brown edging of the paler sand-lace. The foam brought in by each wave-surge quivers in the light breeze: iridescent bubbles hold their shape briefly, and then collapse.

Nothing new?

Feedback please: I’ve finally started resizing my photos, from MB to KB, shocked into action by a too-large internet bill. Please let me know if you think I’ve resized them too small.


I too am playing around with a circle frame. Thank you, Jude and Pauline, for reminding me of this possibility.