The Beauty In The World
Now that my life has calmed down somewhat (well, up until last week, but more on that later) I have had time to be more appreciative of my surroundings. A form of peace and serenity, a sharp sense of clarity has enabled me to look at things from a variety of new perspectives. Sure, life has slowed down somewhat, but after the last few years I am not complaining about that in the slightest. This post may be already be sounding a bit dazed and dreamy, like I'm taking some kind of substance which can hand you these feelings on a silver platter. But worry not! Nothing of the sort is flowing through my bloodstream at this moment in time. Instead, you could say I'm high on life. Or not. Depends on how much cliche you can handle I guess.
I still regularly explore my surroundings, even though I have walked most of the tracks and beaches in the area multiple times. But there is always something new to discover, something I haven't seen before. Recently a storm blew its way across the coast, and while it wasn't remarkable as far as storms go, it left a rather lasting impression on one of the bays I like to walk to. The rain from this storm managed to fall at such a quick rate, and with so much ferocity that it managed to generate flash floods in all of the streams that emptied out into this one bay. So when I trekked on over to this little haunt of mine a few days after the storm, I was shocked at the amount of destruction caused. But in truth it wasn't really destruction, but more of a transformation. Where there once was clean, pristine beaches, covered with a light dusting of shells and stones, there was instead piles of driftwood, with the odd punga log and tree trunk thrown into the mix. Most of the sand had been shifted further down the beach, to one of my favourite fishing rocks. Except fishing off this rather large boulder would now be practically impossible, as the sand that had shifted house had plopped itself down all around this piece of ancient volcano, so that it was no longer surrounded by water. The whole time I explored this beach I was in awe. I had grown used to what it was, and now that it had changed so suddenly I was in shock. Nature, in its mystery, its spontaneity, and its power is truly beautiful. It was a humbling experience, and a sharp reminder of how vulnerable we can be, especially in the face of a force like the one I had just witnessed.
I was planning on rambling on for quite a bit longer, but it seems that I have encountered more writers block yet again. That, and work has left me with little energy to spare. So maybe this post should be part one of a series, because there is a lot more beauty in this world that I could wax lyrical about. The only major problem I have at this stage is trying to find the right combination of words in order to describe it. So I shall postpone the rest of the update until a later date. Hopefully the delay won't be quite as vast as it has been between my latest posts. Catch you round the block, hopefully.
I still regularly explore my surroundings, even though I have walked most of the tracks and beaches in the area multiple times. But there is always something new to discover, something I haven't seen before. Recently a storm blew its way across the coast, and while it wasn't remarkable as far as storms go, it left a rather lasting impression on one of the bays I like to walk to. The rain from this storm managed to fall at such a quick rate, and with so much ferocity that it managed to generate flash floods in all of the streams that emptied out into this one bay. So when I trekked on over to this little haunt of mine a few days after the storm, I was shocked at the amount of destruction caused. But in truth it wasn't really destruction, but more of a transformation. Where there once was clean, pristine beaches, covered with a light dusting of shells and stones, there was instead piles of driftwood, with the odd punga log and tree trunk thrown into the mix. Most of the sand had been shifted further down the beach, to one of my favourite fishing rocks. Except fishing off this rather large boulder would now be practically impossible, as the sand that had shifted house had plopped itself down all around this piece of ancient volcano, so that it was no longer surrounded by water. The whole time I explored this beach I was in awe. I had grown used to what it was, and now that it had changed so suddenly I was in shock. Nature, in its mystery, its spontaneity, and its power is truly beautiful. It was a humbling experience, and a sharp reminder of how vulnerable we can be, especially in the face of a force like the one I had just witnessed.
I was planning on rambling on for quite a bit longer, but it seems that I have encountered more writers block yet again. That, and work has left me with little energy to spare. So maybe this post should be part one of a series, because there is a lot more beauty in this world that I could wax lyrical about. The only major problem I have at this stage is trying to find the right combination of words in order to describe it. So I shall postpone the rest of the update until a later date. Hopefully the delay won't be quite as vast as it has been between my latest posts. Catch you round the block, hopefully.