Muriwai

Muriwai is the beach closest to my home. I love to go there in all seasons and weathers. 

It's notorious for danger and drownings, so even though I'm a good swimmer and enjoy the surf, I don't swim unless the lifeguards are on duty.

Instead I walk to the outlet of Okiritoto stream. Some days the Sou'wester wind is so strong the return trip takes twice as long as getting there.

Fine-grained dark sand is sorted by the sea into subtle patterns of chocolate, charcoal and inky blue-black. There is always something small to see, to balance the infinite stretch of the sea and sky and sand.

Sometimes there's spinifex spiky seedballs blowing before the southerly. Other times the froth from the waves makes a creamy foam coverlet from water's edge to dunetop.

For about one week in each spring, gloriously royal purple sea snails Janthina violacea or Janthina janthina wash up. More often the pearl-white coiled float chamber of Spirula decorates the tide line.

Like those eternal waves, I always return to the black sand.