Pearses Bay Blairgowrie for Water H2O Thursday

 

Melbourne has been drenched in unrelenting rain for the past fortnight, and Joel and I have grown restless, longing to venture out this weekend in search of new coastal sunsets to capture. Among the many memories of our past excursions, the view from Pearses Bay remains vivid in my mind.

Perched upon the overhanging cliff, I took the photograph as the sun sank low over the restless sea. My heart beat rapidly—not only from the precarious height beneath my feet but from the sheer beauty of the scene before me. The light that evening was golden and tender, bathing the rugged coastline in a warmth that seemed to defy the cool ocean breeze.

Pearses Bay, tucked away along the back beaches of the Mornington Peninsula, is a place of quiet splendour—remote, wind-swept, and largely untouched. The journey there winds through narrow sandy trails framed by coastal heath and scrub, where the scent of salt and tea tree hangs in the air. Few visitors make their way down to its crescent of pale sand, hemmed in by weathered limestone cliffs. Standing above it at sunset, one feels suspended between sea and sky—a moment of solitude and awe that lingers long after the light fades.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Water H2O Thursday

Princes Pier Pylon Port Melbourne for Treasure Tuesday

 

The photograph was taken at Port Melbourne’s historic Princes Pier, though not during the golden hour that so often bathes the sea in honeyed light. Rather, it was a spontaneous shot—one of those unplanned moments that arise when the day’s itinerary dissolves and the camera remain the only faithful companion. Joel and I had wandered aimlessly that afternoon, having run out of places to go, when the glimmer of light on the water caught my eye. The air was mild, tinged with the scent of salt and timber, and the long-weathered pylons stood solemnly like sentinels of the past. I pressed the shutter almost absentmindedly, more out of habit than expectation. Yet, to my astonishment, that very image would later win a prize in a national photography competition. It felt strange and humbling that a fleeting, almost casual moment could be recognized amidst so many crafted works.

Afterwards, Joel and I drove to St Kilda, that lively seaside district known for its old amusement pier and cosmopolitan charm. We found a small souvlaki joint tucked between the shops, the sort of place that greets you with the aroma of grilled lamb and oregano before you even step inside. The lamb chops were extraordinarily juicy, glistening with their own fat, charred just enough to release a whisper of smoke. We ate in companionable silence, watching the slow descent of twilight over the esplanade—the sea turning from steel to violet, the city lights beginning their nightly shimmer.

In retrospect, that day feels like a quiet meditation on chance and reward—the way beauty can appear without warning, and how memory often attaches itself to the simplest acts: a photograph taken without intention, a meal shared without ceremony. Princes Pier, in its weathered grace, seemed to speak of time’s patient endurance, the lamb in St Kilda, of life’s earthy pleasures. Between them lay the essence of the day—an unassuming harmony between art, friendship, and the small felicities that make an ordinary afternoon unforgettable.

Sony A7RV

FE 16-35mm f2.8 GM

Linking Treasure Tuesday

Little Lonsdale St Mural for Mural Monday

 

I did not know who painted this mural, yet it caught my eye as I wandered up the street with my camera in hand, seeking candid moments of the city. Upon the corner wall, a vivid portrait emerged — a young woman with two braids falling neatly over her shoulders, her gaze direct and luminous, reminiscent of the youthful glamour of pop icons. The interplay of magenta, turquoise, and tangerine hues lent the work a pulse of energy, as if the very air around it shimmered with rhythm. There was something refreshing in its presence — a burst of colour and spirit that seemed to awaken the quiet street, reminding me that art often finds us when we least expect it.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Mural Monday

Pearses Bay, Blairgowrie for Sunday Best

 

Once again, Joel and I visited this rugged coast last weekend. Our wandering led us to a secluded section of the bay adorned with striking rock formations and restless, foaming waters. There we set up our equipment and devoted ourselves to capturing the scene from various angles, the rhythm of the waves providing both challenge and inspiration. Time slipped away unnoticed; scarcely had we taken a few frames before the sun sank beyond the horizon, casting a final glow upon the sea.

The approach to this spot, along the winding trail of the Back Beach on the Mornington Peninsula, was itself a quiet delight — a path bordered by coastal shrubs and windswept dunes, where the air carried the mingled scents of salt and tea-tree. It is a place that rewards both the patient walker and the watchful eye, revealing new beauty with every turn.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Sunday Best

Water Buffalo for Saturday Critter

 

In the quiet rhythm of the countryside, the water buffalo move like dark shadows across the green expanse of the farm. Their great horns curve like crescents of moonlight, and their hides glisten beneath the sun’s patient gaze. Each slow step presses the earth with the weight of centuries—beasts that have ploughed fields, drawn carts, and stood beside humankind since time began. They graze in silence, tails flicking lazily, their breath rising in soft clouds that mingle with the scent of grass and soil. Around them, the air hums with stillness, and the land seems to remember their strength—the steadfast companions of toil and harvest, guardians of the pastoral heart.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Saturday Critter

Christchurch signs in New Zealand for Sign2

 

I remember well the nightly strolls I took after the conference that week in Christchurch, New Zealand — quiet wanderings through streets alive with renewal and the soft pulse of evening light. The city, still bearing the echoes of its trials, has a spirit both gentle and resilient, and I was drawn to its mingling of history and reinvention.

The first image I captured shows the weathered shell of a vintage car, its surface adorned with signs and words — a collage of memory and message, like a poem written upon metal. It stood as both relic and artwork, a testament to the city’s creative soul that transforms what once was into something enduringly expressive.

In the second image, a barber works beneath the glow of lamplight, his shop modest yet full of life. Outside, a sign reads New York — an echo of distant dreams set within the quiet streets of Christchurch. Together, these scenes spoke to me of place and passage: how cities, like people, gather stories in their scars, and how beauty often lingers most where time has touched it deeply.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Sign2

Christchurch Mural in New Zealand for Mural Monday

 

The mural, an impressive and expansive work, first caught my attention when I visited Christchurch earlier this year for a conference. Revisiting the photograph now for Mural Monday, I am struck anew by its vibrancy and significance — a fine testament to the city’s enduring spirit and creative renewal in the years following the major earthquake.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Mural Monday

Candillac Gorge San Remo For Sunday Best

 

Cadillac Gorge at San Remo is best visited when the tide breathes gently against the rocks — high enough for drama, yet low enough to let you wander into its sculpted heart. That day, however, the sea had risen too far, climbing to 1.1 metres, a restless height that sealed the gorge from reach. The air was thick with the scent of salt and the sound of water striking stone, each surge echoing through the basalt walls like a low, thunderous heartbeat.

Joel stood a little distance away, cautious of the spray that leapt unpredictably from the rocks. I remember how the wind lifted droplets that glistened like glass in the pale afternoon light. In the pools nearby, small whirls turned upon themselves — patient, persistent, as if tracing the rhythm of the ocean’s hidden pulse.

Though we could not step into the gorge that day, its beauty was no less felt. Cadillac Gorge revealed itself in fragments — in the crash of waves, in the shimmer of foam, and in the humbling reminder that nature does not always open her doors, but when she does, it is on her own, magnificent terms.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Sunday Best

Bore Beach Sunset San Remo for Skywatch Friday

 

The place I was meant to visit was actually immersed in sea water right there. Another day of miscalculation. But before the staircase down to the beach, I spotted these misty glow in the valley nearby. It is quite pleasant

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Skywatch Friday

Bore Beach San Remo at Gippsland for Water H2O Thursday

 

My apologies in advance — over the coming weeks, my posts will be devoted entirely to the seascapes of this beloved coast. I find quiet joy in the short drive and in the patient search for light, texture, and tide along its edge.

Bore Beach at San Remo carries a history woven deep into Victoria’s maritime past. Once part of a rugged fishing and trading route, it served as a working shoreline where boats were launched into the often restless waters of Bass Strait. In the late nineteenth century, the nearby township of San Remo grew around the bridgehead that linked the mainland to Phillip Island, becoming a small but vital port for granite, coal, and the island’s dairy produce. Local fishermen would gather at Bore Beach before dawn, their lanterns swaying like low stars, setting out to sea for snapper and salmon.

Today, the beach remains quieter — its industry replaced by contemplation. The wind carries only traces of those early voices, mingling with the cry of gulls and the rhythmic pull of the tide. To wander here is to feel both the endurance of the sea and the fragile beauty of human memory along its shore.

Sony A7RV 

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Water H2O Thursday

Bandicoot Walk Blairgowrie for Sign2

 

This narrow track at Pearses Bay, in Blairgowrie, slips away from the main path like a secret whispered by the dunes. It winds between the scrub and the salt air, where every turn feels both familiar and new. Without the guiding signs, one could easily lose their way—the land itself seems to invite a gentle bewilderment. Even the signpost, weathered and bold, carries a hint of adventure, as though pointing toward a story rather than a direction.

Below, the bay reveals its hidden chambers—sea caves carved by time and tide, echoing with the murmurs of the deep. They beckon the daring to descend by rope into their cool blue silence. I smile at the thought, and decline. Some beauty, after all, is best admired from the edge, where wonder and safety share a fragile peace.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Sign2

Pearses Bay Track Blairgowrie for Treasure Tuesday

 

Pearses Bay has become our chosen trail—Joel’s and mine—a place where the land curves gently toward the restless sea. The walk unfolds with a quiet grace, the salt wind brushing softly against the face like a familiar hand. There is solace in its constancy, a rhythm of air and tide that speaks without words.

With a telephoto lens, I linger by the shore, studying the water as it folds and unfurls in endless conversation with the rocks. Each ripple, each surge, becomes a stanza of motion and light. It matters little whether the sky is bright or brooding; the sea always offers a new language to read, a shifting mirror for the mind. And so, we return—drawn by the hush between the waves, where observation becomes a kind of prayer, and the simple act of looking feels like belonging.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Treasure Tuesday

Fitzroy St Murals and Graffiti for Mural Monday

 

It has been quite some time since I last took a leisurely stroll through Fitzroy. Today, I managed to find a parking space in the car park depicted in the first image—a structure whose interior proves no less forbidding than its stark exterior. There is, however, a certain raw charm in its decay, a sense of urban history etched into the walls. Amid the gloom, a large mural—an expressive portrait splashed with bold strokes of colour—graces one of the concrete surfaces, lending the place an unexpected civility and artistic spirit so characteristic of Fitzroy’s creative soul.

Nearby, a vivid depiction of Sonic the Hedgehog caught my eye—a playful echo from the 1990s that stirred a quiet nostalgia. Its bright hues and carefree energy stood in delightful contrast to the rough textures of the surrounding walls, as though childhood memory itself had been painted onto the heart of the city’s grit.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Mural Monday

Koi Carp, Taiwan for Saturday Critter

 

They appeared happy and relaxed as they glided through the clear, sunlit water. These koi carp were spotted in the front pond of a museum I visited during my trip to central Taiwan earlier this year.

Koi carp hold a special place in Asian culture, revered not merely for their beauty but also for their symbolic significance. Originating from Japan and China, they are often associated with perseverance, strength, and the pursuit of excellence—qualities drawn from an old legend about koi swimming upstream against powerful currents to transform into dragons. Their vibrant colours—ranging from pure white to deep crimson, gold, and black—represent various virtues such as love, prosperity, and success.

In temple gardens, courtyards, and museum ponds alike, koi are kept as living works of art, embodying a serene balance between nature and human cultivation. Watching them move gracefully beneath the water’s surface evokes a sense of calm and continuity—an ancient symbol of harmony still treasured in the modern world.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Saturday Critter

Pearses Bay Blairgowrie for Water H2O Thursday

 

Long drives across country Victoria once again—rushing from one destination to the next with scarcely a moment’s pause. As the saying goes, there is no rest for the wicked.

This image is from one of my previous water exposure studies at Pearses Bay, Blairgowrie, on the southern Mornington Peninsula. I thought I might share another, this time capturing a different whirling motion of the ocean.

Geologically, Pearses Bay forms part of the rugged Bass Strait coastline, carved over millennia from the Tertiary limestone and sandstone cliffs characteristic of the region. The relentless action of wind and sea has sculpted dramatic rock platforms, blowholes, and tidal pools that testify to the Peninsula’s ancient marine origins—remnants of a seabed that once lay beneath warm, shallow waters some 10 to 15 million years ago.

Historically, the bay takes its name from early European settlers in the Blairgowrie district during the mid-19th century, when the coast was known for lime burning and small-scale maritime trade. Today, it remains a place where geological time and coastal solitude converge, inviting both reflection and respect for the enduring power of the sea.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Water H2O Thursday

Pearses Bay Blairgowrie For Treasure Tuesday

 

While Joel remained absorbed in his phone for the greater part of our venture, I busied myself with the more patient art of observation. Along the curve of the bay, I lingered with my camera, experimenting with various lengths of exposure, seeking to capture the secret motion of water and light.

The tide moved in soft eddies, curling like pale silk across the sand, and the wind traced fleeting patterns upon the surface. Each long exposure revealed another rhythm — the sea breathing in slow, translucent whirls, the rocks standing still as time itself slipped past in silver veils.

I found a quiet pleasure in these swirls, these transient forms that vanished even as they appeared. In them lay something of the eternal — the ceaseless conversation between sea and shore, between motion and stillness, between the human heart and the timeless patience of nature.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Treasure Tuesday

Lake Boga town silo art mural for Mural Monday

 

I often pass through Lake Boga on my monthly journeys to Swan Hill. The town’s name, often misheard as “Lake Bogan,” belies its gentle charm — a small holiday township set beside a broad, tranquil lake where families gather for boating and water-skiing.

The lake itself, though now a haven for leisure, bears a deeper history. For countless generations it was home to the Wemba-Wemba people, whose connection to its waters long preceded European arrival. Major Thomas Mitchell recorded the lake in 1836, noting the Aboriginal encampments that dotted its shores. A brief Moravian mission followed in the 1850s, an early but short-lived attempt at settlement. With the coming of the railway in 1890, the township flourished as an agricultural district, its fields and dairies nourished by the lake’s waters.

During the Second World War, Lake Boga gained national significance as a secret Royal Australian Air Force base, where Catalina flying boats were repaired and maintained — a vital, if understated, contribution to Australia’s war effort. This proud history now finds renewed expression in a striking new mural by Tim Bowtell, painted upon the town’s grain silos. His work portrays the Catalina aircraft and its commanding officer, George “Scotty” Allan, bathed in the golden light of a Mallee sunset.

Thus Lake Boga endures — a place where the quiet rhythm of rural life mingles with echoes of ancient habitation and wartime service, its still waters mirroring both the passage of history and the enduring artistry of those who call it home.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Mural Monday

Pearses Bay Blairgowrie for Sunday Best

 

This photograph was taken a week ago at Pearses Bay. Joel, somewhat absent-minded and preoccupied with his phone, seemed scarcely aware of the hour, while I managed to capture this seascape of swirling tides and foaming whirls. It marks my third visit to this striking stretch of coast.

Pearses Bay, lying along the southern rim of the Mornington Peninsula near Blairgowrie, is shaped by the restless breath of Bass Strait. Over millennia, waves have carved its sandstone and limestone cliffs into sculptural terraces, their pale strata revealing an ancient marine history when this land lay beneath a shallow sea. The shore’s reefs and rock pools glisten with seaweed and abalone shells, while the rhythmic surge of the tide traces nature’s ceaseless dialogue between land and water — a landscape both serene and elemental.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Sunday Best

Mudskipper found in Taiwan East Coast for Saturday Critter

 

For some time now, I have been drawing upon images from my archives. This particular photograph features a mudskipper, which I encountered along the east coast of Taiwan—an especially fascinating discovery at the time. Mudskippers are extraordinary amphibious fish, noted for their ability to live both in water and on land. Commonly found in intertidal zones, mangrove swamps, and muddy riverbanks, they employ their muscular pectoral fins to “walk” across surfaces. Their prominent, elevated eyes provide a wide field of vision above the water, while their capacity to breathe through both gills and skin enables them to flourish in the dynamic environments where sea and land converge.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Saturday Critter

Butterfly signs in De Graves St Melbourne for Signs 2

 

These sculptural artworks—three-dimensional signs, one might term them—once adorned a window near Degraves Street, a corner of Melbourne where I am often drawn to practise my candid street photography. Though now removed, I long admired their playful presence, which lent character and charm to the laneway’s ever-changing canvas. Their absence recalls another fleeting installation: the celebrated butterfly display in Centre Place, where hundreds of delicate forms once hovered in mid-air, transforming the narrow arcade into a living allegory of lightness and renewal. That display, too, has since been taken down, yet it remains in memory as part of Melbourne’s tradition of ephemeral art—urban adornments that flourish for a season, enchant passers-by, and then vanish, leaving behind only recollections woven into the fabric of the city.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Signs2