King Head to Mt. Scrub Rd. pt 3

Recharged from an hours rest we quickly covered the shorter Parson’s Beach and set foot onto grassy headland. Tresh’s feet though we’re still bare (having kept his boots off since we first set foot on beach) and would remain so until on bitumin. The soft ground under our feet was in stark contrast to the angled unforgiving rock that hemmed the land at the waters edge. Further out, our eyes scanned the sea in the hope of sighting a whale when, closer to shore, our attention was drawn to the darting shape of a lone seal surfing just below the surface of the breaking waves. In and around and in again it played, effortlessly, becoming for me the find of the day. When the seal departed we too moved on tracing the cattle path up and down the headland encountering trickling creeks and secluded, driftwood scattered coves until the hill fell into the open glen at the mouth of Coolawang Creek.
Hopping across the rounded river rocks we rested again around a swiftly made fire. Surrounded by wild nature the two of us shared a mutual look of, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, right now. But the sky had grown moody and rain had begun to fall. I had the feeling that we would soon be swallowed if we stayed much longer, and so we put the coast behind us and headed up the glen to the road and to the car that would take us home through a black, rain-lashed night. (Ewan)

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