This beach is unusually steep. I’m standing at the bottom of the hill, right where the coarse black sand meets the ocean; if I turn my head I can barely see over the crest. In the distance to my right, a cliff rises abruptly out of the sand, and off to my left the beach narrows to a point where the dark green hills come crawling down to the water. The slow swell of the Pacific gets bunched up against the steeply rising ground, and as it does a turquoise grey wall of water rises up in front of me. … Read the rest
Just a few meters out from the beach the sand gives way to an entirely different landscape; forests of bony coral fingers covered in green algae; meter wide shelves of brown coral in uneven stacks, so thin and brittle they look like they would break at the slightest touch; clusters of sea urchins with spikes 20 centimeters long. I must stay mindful of how I move, lest I should hurt myself or damage the coral. Hundreds or even thousands of fishes swim back and fourth through this landscape; tiny blue ones flitting out of sight in a moment, flat black and white ones with long filaments at the ends of their fins, gliding majestically along, big silver ones nibbling on the coral, and ones that lie still on the ocean floor, their mottled skin acting as near perfect camouflage. A few meters further out the seabed drops precipitously away beneath my feet and the water turns a deeper shade of blue. I suddenly find myself floating in the middle of a school of neon yellow, tiger striped fish. They whirl around me, nervously at first, but as I slow my movement to a minimum they come in closer, curious about this new presence. As soon as I move a hand towards one, it swims away with a flash. Moments later another comes inching closer again. It's like a curious dance we're doing, the school of fishes and I. It lasts a few minutes until I take off in a different direction, continuing to explore.
The massive Mercury four-stroke is churning up a huge swell as it pushes us forward, shooting a plume of foam into the air behind us. The drone of the engine is competing with the noise of the wind to drown out the sound of conversation. Despite the relatively calm sea, we are bouncing on the waves with a rhythmic thud, thud thud; riding up the crests then crashing down into the troughs, spray soaring into the air with each beat. We are quickly passing little islands - lush green hills poking out from the turquoise sea - as the mainland recedes into the distance behind us.
9:12am: The water is gushing down on me, trying to push me off the rock I’m standing on. A thought rushes through my head, should I give up, take the easy route? I shrug it off, find a new handhold, fight back against the force. It’s go time! With the water spraying into my face I push off with my legs and heave myself up. I’m through! What a rush! Soaking wet, I pump my fists in the air.
9:19am: I’m trudging through knee deep rapids, feel the force against my legs. I clamber over a boulder and as I … Read the rest
We go tramping through the forest like giants, mostly unconcerned with where we step. It’s not until you kneel down to pick some berries or mushrooms that your perspective changes and you notice it: The forest floor is like a landscape within a landscape. There are groves of blueberry bushes with fields of grass in between. There are deep gullies winding their way between moss covered hills. There are anthills the size of cities and paths that no human has ever walked. There are irregular patches of lichen scrubland. There are bright red, yellow, and purple mushrooms shooting up from … Read the rest
We come around the bend and the view opens up in front of us; distant peaks obscured by the haze, the mountain side dressed in pale greens and yellows – bamboo waving in the breeze like reeds – the mist comes rolling down the slope like water, spilling out as it hits the boxy structure of a man made tunnel – concrete and dark green moss – billowing into the air like smoke then swirling into the blue void. No time to take a photo, just a few moments until the road leads us into the gaping maw of the … Read the rest
The rain is drumming on the parasol and the wind blowing through the trees is unusually cold for the season. The lake, just down the slope in front of me, lies flat and gray like a piece of slate, reflecting the dismal sky. The embers in the barbecue glow red, heating me up just enough to keep standing here. The summer shouldn't be cold and wet like this but the sun is conspicuous by its absence. Two steps to the side I would be miserable yet here, in this little pocket of dry warmth, it's strangely cozy; like sitting inside watching the rain through the window but somehow more acute. All I lack now is the typical barbecue beer...perhaps exchanged for a cup of hot chocolate.
The moon rises full and bright above the headland on the far side of the small bay, the jagged silhouette barely perceptible against nearly black sea and deep blue night sky. The moon is big and orange like it can only be in August, casting its light in a streak across water. Only four colours yet this simple beauty is nearly impossible to capture with my camera so instead I try to memorize the moment while the cool breeze swirls gently around me.
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