After getting up at 3:30 to stack the Balcony chairs and to relocate the table pot plants due to the strong wind gusts that were sweeping over the Hinterland and rushing out to sea, it was a pleasant relief to be met by a zephyr of a breeze. The small flower buds that were wrenched forcefully from the various plants at the hand of the overnight gale are lined up like a pile of confetti once the sprinkled bride has moved from her place of baptising. Easy task to tidy up. Looking out past the rather calm grey sea I can just make out the horizon line as the sky above is just one great army blanket grey, that is hanging like washing on a line that blocks the view of everything behind it. Waves are only appearing as they hit the golden sands of the eagerly awaiting shoreline where they in vain attempt to scamper to the safety of the distant scrub brush, only to fade from sight far short of their goal.
The Point is surfer free, as only a small swell is running alongside the rocky outcrop and splashing the boulders with the occasional spray of salt water. The Esplanade with it's freshly rain washed pathways is playing host to a number of early morning activists, with jogging, walking and cycling being the main endeavours. As the out of sight sun has now climbed up the first few rungs of the heavenly ladder the clouds are beginning to separate away from their previous solidarity and some light off white colour is beginning to surround the break away offenders. Turning around, I can see that the Hinterland is playing host to a number of light white cotton ball puff clouds that are hiding in the valleys, jostling one another and almost daring each other to make a break for it and flee to the safety of the cloud mass gathered above. The only sighting of blue in the sky is northwards over Surfers. All up, it is a tranquil sight.