On warm December days, the bitter hot sand sinks between my toes burning the ruff tissue off the soles of my feet until they are replaced with new layers of smooth skin. The sand found on the west coast wasn’t like any other white delicate sand, but instead, cruel, black and furious. Skipping across the sand, towards the reckless unforgiving surf that lines the beach of Whatipu, salty mist blasts, bounce of crushing white 3-foot monsters that break slowly, pulling thousands of tons of dehydrated sand back into the sea bed. Surrounding the beach are ragged cliffs covered with tussocks that run up the cost line and separate Whatipu from the Manukau Harbour, Merged together like guardians of the coast acting like natural ladders that climb further into the sky where birds fly, slow motion in lazy arcs, effortless gliding in the air … Laughter and joy get picked up by the wind and blown away into the scenic green native bush that bounds along the hills of the Waitakere. Down on the sand, Families enjoying the sun and each other makes for the iconic kiwi holiday, pavlova is sat next to picnic baskets, backyard cricket set up in the sand surrounded by competitive fathers and soaked scruffy dogs with their noses down in the surf. Pohutakawa trees sway in the breeze causing the freshly pollinated flowers to fall in the current bellow dyeing the ocean with red scented leaves.

When the evening sets, the bitter hot sand gets extinguished and is left cool, cold and lonely. Tipping my toes in the lapping waves softens the skin on my feet and as it retreats leaves a foamy trail. Eyes closed, chilly breeze rushes past me robbing my body of its warmth, carrying the scent of salty water which as it reaches my nose embraces me of memories spent at the beach. Seagulls take watch, eyes bearing down from their colonies like masters of the coast, tucked up in soft tussocks high up on the cliffs safe from the lurking pests that roam in the night. Walking along the shore, No one says a word as to when they look up the kissed sky is the heavens opening, breaking through with ambient colours of amber and orange that slowly gets tucked under the blanket of dark turquoise water. Looking back along the shore it is that of a vast emptiness as if a storm had come through and swept all Laughter and joy away and replaced it with the romantic and peaceful night. Following the scent of my nose, it takes me to a raging fire which families have gathered around sing songs, dogs dancing to music and loving fathers preparing Kai for their families. Pohutakawa trees no longer sway holding on to their flowers they radiate colour into the night reminding me of the beautiful sanctuary of Whatipu.