Fresh new water rushing down the incline, spilling over long-dry banks to effervesce and caress broken sun-greyed sticks and furry weeds, compelled to get to lower ground. Only, it isn’t new water, it is ancient water, it’s water that has been here before, over and over.
She gathers silt, like a pro in her fast moving [...]

I kid myself that I am the boss of her.

A Lionfish, just floating.

Looking South from Mona Vale Headland Reserve.