Shapes and Surf

The second day at the holiday cottage began with another rainstorm. We were told by our father that we would not be going out, unless the rain stopped. We sat at the window after breakfast, willing the sky to clear. The merest patch of sunlight breaking through the rain clouds, as they scudded (love that word) across the dreary coloured, windy, skies, drew excited intakes of breath from those of us sitting and waiting. And when the sky finally cleared, midway through the morning, we were even more excited to see the surf was only then, dropping away towards the low tide mark. There was an excited push to get outside. “Coats” our father called. These were needed in the event of further rain, which our father was sure was going to eventuate explaining the trip may need to be called off. We disagreed (in our heads anyway). We obliged, wrapping the oilskins (a great all weather traditional raincoat, well suited to New Zealand’s cold and wet conditions) over our arms and heading off like eager hounds at the front of a hunt. The difference being, we also had to carry shovels and spades as well as a few buckets, which we thought would be needed to dig out whatever the object was.

Our animated conversations during the previous evenings meal had focused on us becoming famous, by the discovery of the first major dinosaur skeleton on New Zealand’s islands.  We knew there had been giant moa’s in New Zealand. This was a very large ground ratite, similar looking to an emu, only standing around six feet tall at its back and around 10 feet tall to the head. Also considered the tallest bird ever in the world. So in the minds of the children, enthused with the spirit of a holiday, it wasn’t a far leap to think we may have discovered a brachiosaurus, or perhaps, as all children even educated a little in the knowledge of dinosaurs, A Tyrannosaurus Rex!  So of course we were very excited as we made our way along the windy beach.

The smell and sound of the ocean is a scent I have never forgotten. The pure amount of energy in the air when walking beside rolling surf is an event I think all people should feel. Yet, I have travelled to places around the world where, some people, even in their later years, have never seen the ocean, or felt any desire to. The difference one feels, of raging, rolling, surf, compared to the boring calm holiday resort beaches is summed up in one word. Stimulation! You cannot help but feel stimulated with the noise and power of surf, booming along the sands, even when the temperature of the water is near freezing. Well, we children were stimulated. Our father followed casually at the rear, ambling it appears, rather than briskly walking and running as we were attempting to encourage. Then in the distance ahead, we could see the shape, rising out of the sand. Bulbous and isolated as the tide withdrew.

 (Continued tomorrow)