More info on this track here, where you'll note I've copied the photos from (is that allowed? please tell me quick if I've lined myself up for a court case). No camera was even thought of in our haste to take off with our chicken sandwiches and fruit.
We walked down through native forest in wonder, then through flaxes and then some kind of primrose and then onto the beach. We explored caves, let beautiful multi-coloured pebbles run through our hands, climbed on rocks, drank in the sky and sand and waves, marvelled at the echo which magnified the sound of the waves.
And I thought of Rob. Of Denise and Woody and Mungo who will bury their husband and father today in England. Goodbye Rob. Will you let the pray-ers pray for you? I hope the Spring birds sing when you go down into the ground.
As we left, I gathered a small handful of sea kelp and carried it back up to the road, to the car. It's resting on the garden at the moment, but it will go in the hole which we dig when we plant a tree in your honour, Rob.
