Here we are, folks, second instalment of my three-parter about my five-month, 1,000-mile-plus multi-day-walk Sandgate (mostly) perambulation, or 5M1K+MDWS(M)P#2.
No dreary saga of psychological turmoil this time, and the extra space (I try — and often fail — to keep my posts under 1,000 words, for my comfort as well as yours) means I can provide a little background info in the picture captions.
Once again, the pictures are presented chronologically.
5M1K+MDWS(M)P#3 coming in three days’ time…
CAST AWAY, CABBAGE TREE CREEK. There’s an excellent pun in there if you care to look.
THREE’S A CROWD. Same spot, a minute or two later. That was a beautiful morning’s walk.
SWIMMER CRAB IN RETREAT. Shorncliffe Pier in the distance. I’ve been nipped by these guys before and it’s always alarming.You can see my ripples as I traversed this tidal pool while the crustacean zig-zagged away, claws extended, on high alert.
PACK UP YOUR TOYS & GO HOME. A kite-surfer walks his ride into shore at dusk, with the waters of an incoming tide to my rear.
MOLLUSCAN CONDOMINIUM. On the mudflats at Sandgate, softly illuminated by a rising sun. I use the word “mudflats” as that’s the one everyone uses, but I feel it my civic duty to report, since”mud” has negative connotations for most, that this is in fact wet sand, composed largely of crushed shells. There’s a difference: this “mud” for the most part isn’t sticky or malodorous.
YOU’LL NEVER WALK ALONE. How freakin’ sweet.
DAWN FOAM, SHORNCLIFFE. I don’t have a telephoto, so during this fun little stage when I was experimenting with freezing breaking waves (whereas in low light it’s more about getting that nice flossy sheen from moving water), I had to get right up close to where these little waves were hitting the rocks, squeeze off a few shots and pull the camera back behind my head before (ideally) it got splashed. I used my older camera as it’s four years old or so and hence more expendable (or would be if I had a job).
SEEDPOD SHADOWS. If anyone knows what this weed is, I’d be grateful. It grows along the the shore in patches, and the seedpods resemble canola or mustard or some type of brassica.
EGRET UNDER THE SPOTLIGHT. Baxter’s Jetty, at the mouth of Cabbage Tree Creek, and yes, I believe it’s the same little egret (for that is the species) I wrote about once before. This was dawn, when the colours of the rails and the water complement each other best.
JELLYFISH PIE. I just can’t get enough jellyfish pictures — I must have hundreds. Not many critters look so damned beautiful in death. Only Alice Cooper comes close.
HERE COMES THE SUN. Baxter’s Jetty again. I’m always looking for new angles. Usually I like having it to myself but sometimes I’m happy to share.
DAWN PATROL. There it is again — gawd, I’m such a creature of habit. As I can’t zoom in, my style is often about stepping back and allowing my subjects to inhabit their surroundings. Oh yeah, that’s an egret, but I think this one is a great egret rather than a little.
FISHING FLOTSAM. I presume this fell from a fishing boat. Did you know that flotsam & jetsam have defined differences, with jetsam under maritime law being intentionally jettisoned objects?
SUNRISE PILGRIM. Sometimes I play with the timer & tripod like this. I don’t think of them as selfies, since my purpose is to add some human scale or point of reference etc, rather than show off my pouting beauty to an adoring collection of followers. Also, it’s fun, and I get bored easily.
CRAB BALLS. A fresh tunnel has appeared on the flats overnight. And here comes the tide. Ever think about the wondrous ability of crabs to stay underground and un-drowned beneath the tide? One day they will rule us all.
SALTY REFRESHMENT. Says this site, “Seagulls can drink both fresh and salt water… [They] have a special pair of glands right above their eyes which is specially designed to flush the salt from their systems through openings in the bill.” That’s Shorncliffe Pier, currently closed to traffic while it undergoes a $20 million restoration.
ALWAYS START THE DAY WITH A GOOD BREAKFAST. An elderly Asian man and what looked like his daughter smiled at me as I passed their picnic table at Shorncliffe. I hung around trying to photograph the Torresian crows which inhabit this cotton tree grove, at least when humans are eating there. I love crows but they’re too smart to photograph with ease. When those humans got up to walk down to the water, this enterprising fellow moved in and starting helping itself to their spread, one beady eye watching me. I confess I let it have its way for a while, and I admit also that I was laughing at its fearlessness. But when it removed the foil covering the delicious-looking freshly-baked cake and pulled some items to the ground, I was overcome with both guilt & fantasies of Cake As Reward. I ran down to the water and warned them — she thanked me as they rushed back up. But I was not rewarded with cake, and next time the crow and I will work something out…
WHAT WICKEDNESS HAS OCCURRED HERE? At the Sandgate waterfront at dawn, a gruelling handful of metres from the nearest garbage can. People like this give alcoholism a bad name.
BUTCHERBIRD, SANDGATE MARINA. Dawn. This guy can often be found perching on the fence or one of the craft beyond.
ANOTHER CABBAGE TREE SUNRISE. Tide’s in, obviously. In the distance you can make out the Port of Brisbane at the Brisbane River mouth.
COAST-WATCHER. Every sunrise is different, all are beautiful, and some are truly magnificent.
PALM TREES AT SANDGATE YACHT CLUB. You guessed it: dawn. I had walked past those trees perhaps a thousand times without ever really noticing them. Sometimes you just look up and go, “Wow.”
A PEACEFUL SHORNCLIFFE MORNING. Underneath one of the numerous old figs that are synonymous with the suburb.
SUNRISE FIGS, SHORNCLIFFE. Same morning, same fig (on the left). Usually with my lenses I have to get close to the subject — but sometimes it pays to step back.
~ And that’s all the Goat wrote