Tasman Sea was in a foul mood, with waves lapping ivory froth against ebony shores. The noontime sun was angry, scorching the sand bed beneath our feet. The beach was devoid of surfers. There were only mothers tending to their toddlers wading around pools that were remnants of what once were sandcastles.
The infamous Lion Rock stood proud like a sore thumb, with a handful of teenage kids on its bosom; they looked like ants from afar. We toyed on the idea of going up there ourselves, but it was too hot and we didn’t have sunblock. From below, we could only see shrubs, and thin wooden rails that seemed to be part of the safety trail. We reckoned there wouldn’t be anything interesting up there; just a top view of the Tasman, kissing the filaments of sleeping volcanoes.
A bright yellow signage stuck out from the monochromic landscape. As was the purpose, it cannot be missed. It warned of strong currents, which we found inappropriately subtle given the amount of tragedy the area plates up for the news. We wondered if there was a bulletin board somewhere that teaches one how to swim when caught in a rip and such stuff. Or if there were actually NO SWIMMING signals to be put up in instances such as that day.
There weren’t; just flags battered by waves on one hand and strong winds on the other. Between those, we firmly believed it still wasn’t safe to swim.
We sat by the the shore to pass a bit of time and wrote our nicknames on the sand like all sweethearts do. We talked about all those who lost their sweethearts in this very beach. We grieved.
Just before we stood up to get going, I brooded some more, and whispered a little something to the sea:
For someone who claims she is the daughter of the sea, it is a wonder why I find you intimidating. must be the strong winds this afternoon. or the little sandstorms. or the angry sun. But as soon as we pulled over, I immediately wanted to leave (but didn’t; others couldn’t).
You are beautiful. But so was the lives of the brothers, fathers and friends you took oh-so-cunningly.
I live here and every day, without exception, I wonder at the beauty of this place and how very fortunate I am to live here.
Hi Bobbie, thanks for dropping by. Yes, I particularly love Kitekite falls in the area. Piha is a charmer, but part of me is scared.