without looking back
April 2, 2022.
I watched a set of fifteen foot mud brown barrelling rights breaking half a mile off Ballina North Wall this afternoon all unworried by the trails of distant boardriders and glistening strangely in the afternoon sun, too heavy with silt to blow out a spume as their concaves collapsed to then wash up on the beach almost spent only to disturb the opalescent scrimmage of thousands of black carrion flies feasting on the swollen carcass of a drowned calf.
In latter days we were the masters of both our environment and the ability to choose music that defined our generation.
Putin & Assad. Brothers in war.
‘Dedicated to all the great conquerors, present past and future.’
A bloke could wander up and down windswept beaches for half his life before finding one of these.
So I stuck it in the boot and brought it home. Later on that day I wondered what the stink was when I got back into the car to go get Friday night’s pizza.
Header pic is of the late Dewey Weber, aka the little man on wheels.
another day in australia