BurbleChaz

Our normal response to a beautiful, bright sunny day is to go surfing, like this:

Arty, that shot is.

The weather this morning was so promising we got up early and checked the surf forecast. No, actually. That's not true. We checked the surf forecast, and decided to stay in bed. Isn't wireless technology wonderful? The surf was flatter than a flat thing and getting flatter.

It's over six weeks since the water temperature fell too low for snorkelling. The weather has been colder since then. Still, too nice a day to stay dry, and we'd look like complete plonkers waiting for a wave as the Tasman Sea did its millpond impersonation. A day after the full moon, at low water on a huge spring tide. No significant surf for a week, and the water was crystal clear. Shelley beach has rarely looked so inviting. Just how cold could it be?

Can you believe this is the middle of winter?

It takes us 30 minutes to get here from home. How is your commute?

Answering my last question: very cold indeed. Despite predictions of 18 degrees, the water was so cold it hurt. Either the forecast was wrong, or I've become a wuss. Submerging my face was painful. Still, what's pain when the visibility is over ten metres? We snorkelled happily over the reef, saying hello to all our old friends, and making some new ones. One of the giant cuttlefish waved a few tentacles, muttered something about the temperature and undulated back under a rock. After 20 minutes, sensible people went back to the beach/ Ten minutes later, unable to feel my feet, I followed.

And now, for no reason at all, a perfect flower:

Pretty.

If the surf isn't better tomorrow, I've no idea what we'll do. Getting wet at the beach every weekend is a basic human right.