Sunday, 15 April 2012

Garden Visitors - the Crested Pigeon

Journal #8, page 4, Crested Pigeon, Ocyphaps lophotes
The whole eye appears to be bigger than it really is, thanks to a patch of bare red skin. This gives the bird a cartoon-like look and a range of interesting expressions.

Tertial left wing feather.

Sunday, 1 April 2012


Low Tide, watercolour on paper, 23x36cm, 2012 © Matteo Grilli

A stretch of coastline relatively untouched, hidden and primeval lies where the only audible sounds are those of the sea, the wind, the elements and the birds. Just like this for millennia, with the only exception for human voices, occasional and far. Now it is high tide, the sandy patch, the rocks and the pools of yesterday are now a vortex of currents, foam and huge pounding waves. Like all places between land and sea, change is here continuous and tangible.

The waves are relentless, despite the submerged cliffs they still are living and moving mountains of water which become a shattering white explosion overcoming everything. One after the other. There is something fascinating about waves, their relative slowness, languor and unpredictability, their motion and tenacity: irrepressible and necessary. The grace, beauty and power of the ocean's nature is accomplishing its task. 

I wonder where all yesterday's creatures are, the sea cucumbers, the shells, dead or alive, the plovers, the oystercatchers, the seagulls and the dolphins. All under cover, but then it is their home, they know its ways. Every now and then some seagull flies along the coastline southwards, just like the terns and a pair of oystercatchers. The noise of the waves is deafening and endless, but it induces a feeling of peace and soundness. Watching and listening to the mighty force of the ocean from a fair distance is both reassuring and comforting. For now the inhabitants of the coast will have to find their daily bread somewhere else, or wait for the tide to recede.
Woody Heads - NSW

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