by Bonnie Pockley
There’s something about the black sand on the west coast of New Zealand. It feels other-worldly. Littered with washed-up, dried-up tree limbs, it is as if the bones of ancient creatures have been laid to waste then rediscovered as the wind carves out cavities around them. The whole landscape has richness. The black gives way to a deeper black.The sea washes up a dark blue. The hills stretching the long length of the shore line, are velvety and lush. It’s a magical place. It feels sacred. It feels as if our trespass, today, is momentary and insignificant – equivalent to a millisecond in a millennia…quickly forgotten and easily erased.
1. Inca 2. Sand fort 3. Pax. 4. Lonely bones 5. Climb 6. Peak 7. Jump! 8. We are family 9. Encore 10. Ascent 11. Encore un fois 12. To the ocean 13. Loyal 14. Watch dog 15. Pier 16. Imbedded 17. Open water 18. She the sea 19. Skimming 20. Sandy feet