Exploring the beach

I recently spent the weekend in a little cabin up at Diamond Beach. Waking up near the water with salt air swishing through the old curtains was such a treat. We spent three days clacking around on the linoleum in our thongs so our feet didn’t get black on the bottom. We read books, went for little walks, played Scrabble and grazed on delicious lovingly-made food with my mum’s incredible slices as the cherry on top.

Little H got to do plenty of swimming which she absolutely loved and I got to take some moments to myself while the bub spent time with family. 

In the mornings sunshine would gently light up our verandah with warm pools of yellow-white. Flowers and foliage adorned most of the little cabins and houses around about and the light-play was lovely at the beginning and end of the day.

At dusk we walked along the beautiful beach and I took photos as the sun shot its last rays across the sand. The light made the sand glitter. It cast long shadows behind anything tall enough to stand in its path. And while it lingered I ran along in stops and starts discovering little details with my camera. I miss the beach. We used to live a lot closer when I was young. So for me, the textures, sounds and sights of the coast are full of nostalgia. For the little one, they’re exciting and new. I love that. Nature has this constant presence that defies aging, renewing itself every second. Always old, always new.

Winter solstice

We were driving somewhere and were talking about the winter solstice. What day was it on this year and when will the days begin stretching themselves back out?

Turns out the winter solstice this year was the day before we decided to look it up. The day that was supposed to be the one in lack of sunshine was, for me, one of beautiful sky, sea and silence.

IMG_1658We were out shooting some footage in a valley, then on the coast. It was a clear and sunny day. When the sun went behind a cloud, the wind sliced through every layer but when she was back out basking… it was perfectly warm.


In the morning I took the train as the sun rose slowly into a brilliant blue sky dappled with puffy white clouds. It was 8 degrees and I was rugged up and reading The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. We drove north as the sun got to warming up the frosty fields.


The soul we were interviewing was as warm as the sun herself and we sat lolling in the rays on the deck, sprawled out and captivated as she spoke.


When the sun was high, we were out on the floating deck. A soft drizzle came over us like a dream and left as quickly. The little drops lit up the deck below us as they dropped with a sparkle in each little one.


The sun began to dip low and we drove to the coast, seeking water and sand. We found a nice spot and hopped out to find a whipping wind waiting for us. It stung and spun without reprieve and our cheeks burned cold as we stood guard over the crew and our warm little soul being recorded as she sat contemplating.




The sun set dramatically as we wrapped up and drove off, blazing out till she slipped over the lip of the horizon, leaving warm milky colours ebbing just below the descending storm clouds.

Some say the winter solstice is when the year is reborn. I love the thought that from the end of that day it was as if the year was gently stirring from its old sleepy nod and beginning to bud into something a little brighter.