Sitting on this cold rock seawall waiting for the sun to rise maybe wasn’t one of my best ideas.

The air temp was a temperate one degree and the dew on nearby grasses glistened like diamonds in the pre-dawn light.

The iciness quickly cut through to the bone as I walked to the beach. Then the pain transferred to the cutting of razor sharp edges of oyster shells and dull bites of stones on bones as they hit pressure points of my feet.

All this was accentuated by the icy air temperature and clumsiness of sleep deprivation. I could scarcely stay upright as I balanced on rock edges.

The skies were cloudless but this was just an exploratory exercise so I didn’t have the real camera with attendant tripod with me. I was reconnoitring for future ideas – and using the walk as a motivational tool to just get out and use what I have while I can.

It’s also to keep life real – to feel the pain and do it anyway, to strive and never let the bastard (arthritis) win.

It’s to feel the ice, the softness of the sand, to squish the strands of Neptune’s necklaces, and to feel the relative warmth of the water

It’s to smell the sea and taste the salty air.

It’s to listen to the final calls of the moreporks and the first thrush and tui’s song before all the other birds add to the dawn chorus.

It’s to listen to the fish splash as they feed next to the rocks where I stand.

It’s to see the first light of the day and feel the warmth soon after. And to sit under this huge weather and time twisted old pōhutukawa tree.

Sun’s been up a while now. Time to re-enter the world for another day. Time to go back home and resume the medication to get through another day of cutting firewood and keeping the gardens shipshape for another week.