The glorious Tweed River (New South Wales), its colour inviting and mesmerising.
Yet for me I feel an undertone of danger – of being pulled in; of the river enveloping me to keep me prisoner; never allowing me to reach the shore. I don’t know why I feel like this though I have my suspicion.
I stand and watch its swirling and powerful current as it flows past. Having made its way down from its source, Lillian Rock, it finally melds with the Coral Sea, and the South Pacific Ocean.
It’s quiet along the river, the water glistens in parts from the afternoon sun, and it feels peaceful in my secluded enclave.
I observe the prismatic hues change with the sun’s movement. The sand is cool, the water shallow.
All is good.