Cold, bitterly cold, windy, roaring noise from the sea blown waves. The marram grass quivers like the hair on a large arm brown now from the burning salt winds, it rustles like the erect tail feathers on a peacocks tail, beautiful yet menacing.
Lots of plastics to find today , lumps of tar, hundreds of dead pipe fish.
I met an interesting man hunting for evidence of sewage among the seaweed debris, its not hard to find.
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