Tuesday, 16 December 2008


Beach scooped high, flung out, thrown up, heaved and hauled over what is man made. Pristine white beach huts are barricaded into enforced hibernation by slopes of heaped stones. Splattered against the doors, the lace of red seaweeds, cast aside, flattened. Like from the yellowing pages of a museum herbarium, the fronds are beautifully placed.