Well I hope the Festive Season was a happy one for all and not too stacked with the lunacy and angst that usually accompanies the end of the year.
My main hope, though, for all of you who read this, and all of you who don't, is that it has been safe.
For us... we risked life and limb on a drive to Mordor, my name for a beloved stretch of coast, a chance to catch up with some dear old friends and their boys, who I love dearly, having watched them rise from twinkles in an eye to twinkly eyed young men. My two young men have grown up with them so this reunion of sorts was heartening and sobering too. Time has really flown.
In the village at the Trading Company, Old Bill continues to cast his sea crackled eye at the passing throng, throws out the odd nugget of wisdom, and even the odd hug, as he near squeezed a tear from my eye in memory of my Dear Old Dad. Good on you Billy. I was very touched.
One morning, too, we were gifted with some cracking waves, a little gap in a bit of a horror run typical of this time of year, what with early morning onshores and small swells.
Banks everywhere and one very sucky, hollow right was mine! mine!! mine!!! for an hour or two at the bottom of one of the most rugged shorelines on the earth. Jagged, angular and near beach less, but breathtaking too. I could go on. Suffice to say it was not perfect but perfect moments don't need to be.
To sit out there, gaze at the constantly shifting horizon and just be... was the best present I could imagine.
Pics today, some snaps of a divine morning, courtesy of being at the right place at the right time.