Tag Archives: Beauty

Thoughts of a Beach Boy

Photo credit Peter Abbey

Thoughts of a Beach Boy

If everybody had an ocean, they wouldn’t come here, to ‘Paradise of the Pacific’. It’s a big claim, for a beach, competing with tropical islands, reefs, shipwrecks and stunning coasts on four different continents, but somehow it doesn’t seem wrong either.

Mother Nature does her bit, keeping the water perfectly blue and the ideal temperature year-round and providing stunning backdrops, and the people know how to make the most of her gifts, with a friendly, vibrant culture.

Still, if everybody had an ocean, they wouldn’t come and visit mine. Crowds of beautiful people, enjoying their best lives. I’d miss them.

Extroduction

I just finished a fun project painting beach scenes, but Peter’s photo today made me think of one I’ve have never visited, one whose name until a few days ago conjured up only beautiful images and now has an association of horror. I like think one day Bondi will earn back it’s paradise reputation, but humans have a way of messing up even the most beautiful things, don’t we?

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Friday Fictioneers – Tisn’t the Season

I’m delighted to be able to post another Friday Fiction story today. I missed InMon yesterday and if I get chance I’ll catch that up later, but for now, Rochelle’s picture is below and the links to other stories are on her site. Your comments on my response are welcome, as ever.

And at the risk of sounding Scrooge-like, it’s still November, so as far as I’m concerned, the title is particularly apt. Bah, humbug!

christmas-2005-0101

‘Tisn’t the Season

They appeared overnight: a light frosting of lights around the eaves and gables of homes, shops and temples. In the twilight hours of dawn, walking the quiet streets to work, I marvelled at their beauty and wondered whether the City had suddenly found some unspent budget for Christmas lights in June.

The local newspapers sported their usual split, with half decrying the waste and half expounding the benefits of adding a little sparkle. But when the journalists interviewed councillors, they were met with confusion and denials. Noone knew where the lights had come from.

And then they began to fall.

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