Sometimes when the world hurls a whole heap of shit at you, you just have to decide to make what you can out of it, see it as an excuse to put yourself in interesting places. Diana has taken the term off due to illness, so we ended up, thanks to some very generous friends, this week on the beach north of Caloundra.
Woke up before dawn and walked to the water. The coral sea was a flat dark mass, noisy and shuddering at the edge, but, for the most part, still. A low band of cloud streaked the horizon like a strip of pearly dark fat in the meat of the sky. I watched the sun set a match to it. Had the beach to myself for that fire.
There's a fair bit of dust in the air at the moment, sunsets and sunrises have been beautiful things, dirty pastel striations slipping from orange to steely gray; all the sediments of the sun's passage set upon the horizon. And the moon's been a great copper coin in the sky. It's hard to believe that we can breathe this air, maybe we don't, maybe it just settles inside us like sand.
Could explain my hay fever.
The moonrise was even more beautiful, a fat full moon lifting out of the horizon, rising over what had to be one of the biggest cargo ships I'd ever seen. It's a damn beautiful coastline, sometimes it's nice to be reminded of that.