A grey and dreary-looking morning, everyone sat around inside for far too long eating far too much breakfast.
In the afternoon the weather cleared so Jo and I headed out for a walk to Norman point — anywhere to get out of the cabin! Down Tidal river as the tide was at its lowest and just starting to come back in, amazing how quickly it covers the sandbanks once the incoming tide overcomes the outgoing current! Along the beach past dozens of cuttlefish shells, shells of crabs, weed and the thigh-bone of a large sea-bird — all the flotsam and jetsam of a less-frequented beach, not yet stripped bare by humanity.
The sun came out as we reached the southern end of the beach and started up the burnt-out area at the base of Mount Oberon. Black timber and grey ash, with only bracken and some grasses starting to sprout, and the grass trees showing a fan of green under their brown scorched tips.
Many birds earlier in the day, nearer the campsite, but only a few up in the blackened areas — a yellow robin, crows and a few wrens. Three sooty oystercatchers strutted around on the beach, their bright red beaks standing out against the gloss black.
With all the undergrowth cleared away, also standing out were the gleaming bottles and cans that have been hurled off into the bush. Most of the cans burnt away, but the shattered glass of the bottles twinkled in the sun. Before the fire you probably wouldn’t have been able to see two metres into the scrub, now the whole hillside is bare, revealing all the hidden treasures and rubbish. It would be fascinating to see a series of photos of the area taken at monthly intervals over a year or two as it grows back.