The back of my house overlooks the Tweed Valley, and the floor of the valley is covered in acre upon acre of sugar cane fields. Sugar production is one of the major industries in the area, just as it has been for many years, and during the winter, when the cane is ready for harvesting, fires are lit in the scrubby undergrowth, making way for a clear harvest run for the heavy machinery.
Usually, we see the bright orange glow of the cane fires after night fall, when a strip of the valley can be seen first of all smoldering, slowly transforming into orange flames, and as the fire takes hold we often hear the crackling sounds in the stillness of the dark night. It’s a magical sight, and one which we never tire of seeing.
I’ve tried so often to take photos of the cane fires, but with the surrounding darkness of the night, rarely do the photos do justice to the sight we see. Recently however, I spotted a swirl of smoke in the valley, late in the afternoon, before nightfall. And it eventually developed into a doozy of a fire too!
As you can see in the final photo, at the peak of the blaze, the density of the smoke almost completely hid majestic Mount Warning, the extinct volcanic mountain, and overseer of the Tweed Valley.
I may complain ad-nauseum about the sweltering heat during the summer, but it is winter still, and all things considered, I do live in a beautiful part of Australia.
“Out on the patio we’d sit,
And the humidity we’d breathe,
We’d watch the lightning crack over canefields
Laugh and think, this is Australia.” ~ This is Australia, Gangajang.
My photographic story of my visit to Hastings Point, a beautiful, sleepy, seaside town on the Tweed Coast began here yesterday, as I sat on the grassy hill overlooking the ocean and shared lunch with some very cheeky but rather cute seagulls!
Tiny pools of the ocean water, trapped by the jagged rock formations.
We decided to return to Hastings Point the next morning, when the tide would be low and we could climb around the rocks below. I had also charged my camera battery, so could take more photos.
Black birds were flying around the rocks below, although didn’t seem to want to venture up the hill in search of food, unlike their seagull friends.
The roar of the waves, even at low tide, is at times almost deafening when you are right next to the ocean. The rocks which were hidden by the ocean the previous afternoon were now exposed, showing strange creatures attached to the rocks, and tiny shells in the rock pools.
Tiny creatures, exposed by the low tide, and attached to the rocks. I needed to have a closer look at these…
I have no idea what kind of sea creatures (or rock inhabitants) these are, but they are rather interesting when you take a closer look…
Looking down on the unidentified creatures….
Little seashells, dotted here and there among the attached creatures, look for all the world as if they are covered in honey, when you take a look at them side on.
Honey coated crustaceans?
The crevices between the rocks, filled with ocean the day before, had dried out in the morning sun, making our climb across the rocks both dry and enjoyable.
Wide expanses of rock, letting in streams of the ocean.
Although some of the rock surfaces were smooth and easy to get a footing on, other were jagged pillars of rock, like the volcanic rock formations at Fingal Head, just north of Hastings Point.
I suspect these may be the same breed of volcanic rocks, which can be seen at Fingal Beach.
Being the beautiful morning that it was, I was quite happy to just sit in the sunlight, mind clear, ears filled with the roar of the ocean….
The noise of the ocean didn’t detract from the peace I felt…
….looking out at the ocean, watching the waves crash against the rocks and weave their way like little rivers through the rocky crevices.
The tranquil but fierce ocean.
It felt as if I was existing in a world all of my own, with nature; the birds, the waves, the thundering and splashing, the peace and tranquility.
Natural beauty. No amount of money can buy this, it is free for all to enjoy.
The beauty….
After a while…I have no idea how long I sat on the rocks, contemplating the sea…I noticed the water levels getting higher, the wave splashes rising higher, and thought I might head around to the other side of the rocks, where another beach lies, looking south of Hastings Point.
A deserted beach, looking south from the Hastings Point Headland.
A lone fisherman stood on the rocks, amid the noise and the spray of the waves…
A lone fisherman….
I couldn’t help but wonder if he too felt the magic of the ocean, heard the peace in the crashing waves and lost all track of time as he stood on the rocks amid the salty sea.
The Old Man and the Sea.
Hastings Point is a place that brings back some old childhood memories, of my younger days spent camping with my mum and dad in our little tent by the sea, but now I have made new memories.
And my new memories fill my heart and make my soul sing!
I’ll be back to visit Hastings Point, many more times….
Hastings Point is a sleepy little village situated on the Tweed Coast Road, just south of Tweed Heads. I first visited Hastings Point as a small child, back in the days when mum, dad and I would leave our home in the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney, for our annual camping trip, and head north.
The waves roared and crashed against the rocks.
Those were the days when I would listen to my parents as they talked about the day they dreamed of, when they could move north, to enjoy the warmer climate and a more relaxed lifestyle. They did eventually pack up our lives in the Blue Mountains in 1971, selling everything, to live the rest of their days in their dream world. (I have written the story of our move north, and if you are interested in knowing how the Sea Change came about, it can be read here.)
A few of the locals.
Isn’t it funny how you see things through two different sets of eyes, one when you are a child, another when you become an adult? The Hastings Point I see today is a far cry from the caravan park I recall from my childhood days!
Hastings Point has the most beautiful, breathtaking, rocky headland. To reach the rocks you must climb down from the grassy area above, but my photos begin as we were sitting on the grass, eating fish and chips for lunch, and sharing our food with the ever-so-hungry seagulls!
Looking for an easy lunch offering.
There were other people there that day, eating lunch on the grassy hill overlooking the ocean, but before long nearly every seagull had invited themselves to dine with us!
A seagull giving his interpretation of a hovercraft!
Not only did they walk up and stand right beside where we were sitting, some tame little guys decided that if they put on a show and performed like a little hovercraft in front of us, perhaps they stood a better chance of scoring some chips! And it worked… 🙂
The waves below crashed against the millions of rocks, sending sheets of white spray high into the air. The power of the ocean in itself can take my breath away!
Where are the people?
I spotted a small boat out to sea, which looked rather…well…empty! I zoomed in on it with my camera, and sure enough, there wasn’t a single soul on board. Perhaps the tiny boat was anchored, whilst the occupants headed overboard for a spot of scuba diving.
As the tide was quite high, the natural rock pools were filled with water and we could see the sun gleaming on the shallow water captured within the rocky surrounds.
Shallow water captured in the rock pools.
After lunch (ours, and the seagulls!) we decided to climb down the rocky embankment. There was so much more to see, and with the hill not being too high, it would be an easy decline down the hill. Beside which, I was wearing sensible shoes!
To the south of the point, Byron Bay, the most easterly point of Australia is visible.
The rocks at close range were amazing! The shells, the creatures, the colours, the salty air, the waves, the roaring sounds of the ocean…it was all so magical!
The next day we would go back, to explore the rocky areas below.
But…low tide would be early the next morning, and besides which, my camera battery had gone flat!
Low growing, flowering plants, thriving in the sandy ground.
The next day, we returned….more photos tomorrow. 🙂
I was surprised to discover such pretty plants growing at the beach.
It feels like forever since I last found the time to contemplate adding a post here. What with work, car issues, house rearrangements and illness, some things have had to go onto the proverbial “back burner” of late.
I’m now venturing out of my self-inflicted “blogging hibernation”, and it took Karma to get me moving.
You’ve all heard about Karma, haven’t you? I’ve bumped into her around the webosphere for some time now, but we have never officially met. But we do have some mutual friends.
Karma enjoys offering a Photographic Challenge now and then, sometimes monthly and sometimes when she feels like it, and when I heard about Karma’s August challenge, I couldn’t resist having a go!
This month, Karma is challenging people to find photos of a what we regard as “The Ends of the Earth”.
There’s one place in particular that I love to spend time at, as it takes my breath away every time I go there. I never tire of the magnificence of the area. The view is brilliant and breath-taking, and really looks as though it could very well be the end of the earth.
Only water, as far as the eye can see.
It is Point Danger, right on the border of New South Wales and Queensland, looking across the Pacific Ocean from a relatively small jut out of land, across to the horizon where the ocean meets the sky.
If there was a place on earth where God would live, I’m sure it would be right there, looking across the water.
Surfing off the edge.
I wonder if God has a surf board? The waves in this area are world renowned, with many champion surfer’s living in this area. I haven’t ever been into surfing myself, but I’m sure to some people following the waves is like a religion. They attend the ocean every single day, rain, hail or shine.
Me? I’m overwhelmed by the majesty of the ocean. I’m not too keen on the idea of surfing off the end of the world.
Falling off the edge?
Whilst the roar of the ocean is extremely enticing, I have a huge amount of respect for the power of the waves. I wouldn’t want to take myself too close, nor climb through the fence, as there may be a danger of falling off the end of the earth.
Rocks along the end of the earth.
When the foaming waves finally reach the shoreline and trip over on the massive area of rocks, do the waves realise that they have reached “The Ends of the Ocean”? I have heard the roar of the waves, so feel sure that they are surprised to find that the ocean has an end.
Into the sky.
The earth may also end up in the clouds. If I reach up high, will my fingers touch the gentle cotton-wool puffs above me, but extend no further?
Sun shining from the ends of the earth.
No matter how thick the cotton-wool clouds may be, the sun can always manage to peek through, sending tiny slivers of sunlit rays down from above.
Rainbow Gods
I suspect that only the Rainbow Gods truly know where the end of the earth really is. The arc of the rainbow always reaches from one end of the earth to the other, visiting the places that mere mortals can only imagine and dream about.
The Last Tree.
Surely this must be the last tree on earth, sitting all alone, on the edge of the shores between imagination and reality.
Stairs to the end.
Perhaps if I were to venture along these stairs I may reach another end of the earth, but what would I find there? It would be an adventure to walk along the stairs, to see what is over the other side.
Crystal Paving.
Well now you have seen the ends of my earth, do you feel fear, or joy? Whilst showing the utmost respect for the place where the security of the firm earth beneath my feet meets up with the end of the earth, finding the all-powerful ocean, I can only see joy, for I have seen that when you reach the end, the extension of the oceans of all eternity are paved with crystals.
“If only we lost our minds and arrived at our hearts.” ~ Robert James Waller.
My interest in photography is opening up a whole new world to me. There is such great enjoyment in losing my mind and following my heart, during the pursuit of capturing another image with my camera.
“One day I will go there, when I have the time” has been replaced by “I’ll go there right now!”. And so much for my old way of thinking, when I had imagined that stopping off somewhere, just for a few minutes, would throw my schedule out for the day. Since forgetting about my schedule, real or imaginary, I am finding that the days are not only becoming more enjoyable after my “photo-fix”, I’m actually achieving more overall, throughout each day!
A walk across the bridge will lead to....
This gorgeous footbridge, part of a parkland area in Tweed Heads alongside the Tweed River, is a perfect example of ‘doing things, one day’. For so many years I have admired the bridge, as I have whizzed past in my car, never stopping, but intending to stop ‘one day’.
The Tweed River
On a fine sunny day, just as we have enjoyed during these last couple of weeks, the river to the right of the bridge is simply beautiful….
The canals
….and to left, the river continues on into the man-made canals, which back on to an exclusive residential area.
The first thing you see is the playground...
Heading over to the other side of the river, the first thing you see is the children’s playground. I’m sure that the only time I have ever seen this play area empty is at night, and during a storm!
....and all the activity!
Beside the park is a boat ramp, which can always be seen being used, either by private or day-tripper boats. The bridge in the distance is the main traffic bridge over the Tweed River, which leads into Tweed Heads.
Shade for all, including the seagulls.
The park is full of huge old trees, providing an endless amount of shade. Just across the road from the park is a fabulous fish and chip shop, which I must admit we don’t go to often, as the wait is so long! But they have previously been voted the best fish and chip shop in the Tweed area.
Fishing off the pier.
It’s also a popular fishing spot, where my son and his mates have often spent hours fishing, during their school holidays. (Well, most of the time trying to catch fish, but they don’t mind if they go home empty-handed, which they often do!)
Under the bridge...
When you go under the bridge, there’s even more to be seen, especially if you know what you’re looking for, which I don’t! Luckily for me, my husband does….
....there's more to be seen!
….in among the mangroves, where fresh oysters grow. My husband tells me that mangroves such as these are crucial to the ecology of the Tweed River.
Looking down at the mangroves.
As we head back over the bridge and back to the car, we look down again towards the water. My husband is enthralled by the oysters….
….I see our shadows, and another moment to freeze for all time with my camera. 🙂
In My World 