You can guarantee water will find the easiest way to find balance and right now, it staining the sand encroaches further and finally breaches the beach, cascading gently into the river.
No news of loss of life, but human misery is a given. The leakage trickles news, empathy of various amplitudes ebbs.
Water doing what water does best – falling with a clarity of purpose, taking the shortest route.
‘The eruption of the underwater volcano Hunga Tonga–Hunga Ha’apai created a tsunami felt across the Pacific Ocean. This includes Australia, where small but measurable tsunami waves were still being recorded as late as Monday afternoon.’[i]
Magpies, a pair, sing, from a dead tree tip. They have so much time for music. Flocks of tern and gulls fly past sunrise, a blushed mousehole in cloud.
I stand chanting inside the deep, oceanic white drone, vibrating from my sinus down to the belly, my attention wanders to the Pied Oystercatcher, listening for a moment my heart is not in it. In a rush water crashes along the bank with surprising force, soaking my feet.
[i] ‘The waves that subsequently arrived at the Australian coast were comparable to some of the biggest tsunami waves recorded here, including those generated by the southern Chile earthquake in 1960 – one of the largest on record.’ Hannah Power, ‘Waves from the Tonga tsunami are still being felt in Australia – and even a 50cm surge could knock you off your feet’, The Conversation, 17 Jan, 2022.
