His Daily Photo: bridgewater

Showing posts with label bridgewater. Show all posts

Thursday, December 25, 2025

Bridgewater Visit before Christmas for Water H2O Thursday

Joel and I gifted ourselves a pause, tucked close to the Christmas season, a quiet agreement to step away and wait for the land to open again. For seven long weeks, Saturdays—the day we reserve for wandering—were washed out by relentless rain, the kind that pins you indoors and dulls the edges of anticipation. But at last, the weather shifted. The tide fell to its lowest breath, and the forecast promised storms by the following day, the sort that, by our own well-tested superstition, paint the sky in bruised reds and ember tones before breaking.

On Christmas Day, we will walk toward Bushranger Bay, answering that long-held pull toward open air and salt wind. It feels earned, this return to movement, to rock and water and horizon, after so much stillness.

Nearby, Bridgewater Bay at Blairgowrie holds its own quiet authority. Sheltered and wide, it is a place where pale limestone meets calm, glassy water, where the bay softens the force of Bass Strait into something contemplative. The shallows reveal ribbons of seagrass and pale sandbars at low tide, and the headlands stand watch like old sentinels, weathered and patient. Even when storms loom offshore, Bridgewater Bay often rests in a deceptive calm, as though holding its breath while the sky gathers itself.

After weeks of watching rain stitch the windows shut, the thought of standing there—boots on stone, wind lifting the scent of salt, the sky tinged red with coming weather—feels almost ceremonial. A return to the outdoors, to the quiet drama of coast and tide, and to the simple, sustaining act of going out together again.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Water H2O Thursday

Friday, December 12, 2025

Bridgewater Bay Blairgowrie for Skywatch Friday

Not much cloud gathered above Bridgewater Bay that day in Blairgowrie, just a clean, pale sky opening toward the horizon — but the sun dipped at the perfect angle, and I managed to catch a tight little sunstar flaring between the rocks. I kind of love it: that quiet brilliance, the way it sharpens the whole scene, turning the shoreline into something both wild and tender at once.

To get there from Melbourne’s CBD, the journey itself becomes part of the story. You slip onto the M1, heading south-east, and let the city gradually fall away behind you. At Frankston, the road becomes the Mornington Peninsula Freeway, carrying you through rolling stretches of coastal scrub and pockets of vineyard country. As you reach Rosebud, the landscape softens — tea-tree thickets, dunes, and glimpses of back-beach light. You turn onto Boneo Road, then onto Melbourne Road, and finally wind your way through Blairgowrie’s quiet streets until the sea begins to whisper its presence.

From the carpark near the end of St Johns Wood Road, a sandy path leads you through heathland and low coastal shrubs. The air smells of salt and sun-warmed limestone. Then the land suddenly opens, and Bridgewater Bay reveals itself: rugged rock shelves, tidal pools gleaming like hammered glass, and that western horizon where, if you’re patient and a little lucky, the sun breaks into a star just for you.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Skywatch Friday

Thursday, September 25, 2025

Bridgewater Bay Sunset on the cliff for Water H2O Thursday

Standing upon the sand cliffs of Bridgewater Bay at Blairgowrie, one is immediately struck by the deceptive stillness of the landscape. The cliff edge on which I stood was, in truth, precariously poised above a cavern hollowed out over centuries by the ceaseless force of wind and tide. Beneath my feet lay a deep cave, its roof eroded and thinned to a fragile crust that may collapse at any moment. My companion, Joel, wisely urged me to step back, reminding me that the grandeur of the view is often matched by the peril of the elements that have shaped it.

These overhanging caves are a signature feature of the Mornington Peninsula’s rugged coastline. Formed by the relentless pounding of Bass Strait waves against the friable sandstone, they represent both the transience and endurance of natural architecture. Over time, the softer layers of rock are worn away, leaving behind dramatic vaults and caverns beneath seemingly solid ground. Such formations are not uncommon in this part of Blairgowrie, where the interplay of geology and oceanic power has carved out a coastline as beautiful as it is dangerous.

The sand cliffs themselves bear witness to an ancient story. Much of the Peninsula’s coastal geology is composed of calcarenite, a form of dune limestone laid down during the last Ice Age when sea levels were lower and winds piled sand into vast dunes. In subsequent millennia, these dunes hardened into stone, only to be gnawed once more by the restless sea. Thus, what today appears as a sheer and formidable cliff is in fact a fragile palimpsest of natural history, its fate determined by the invisible pressures at work beneath the surface.

On this occasion, I carried my newly acquired FE 16mm f1.8 GM lens. Yet the wide angle, though technically perfect, seemed inadequate to capture the sense of awe and danger embodied in those cliffs. For no lens, however fine, can wholly convey the vertiginous impression of standing on ground that trembles with impermanence, overlooking caverns sculpted by time and tide.

Sony A7RV

FE 16mm f1.8 GM

Linking Water H2O Thursday

Thursday, September 18, 2025

Bridgewater Bay Blairgowrie for Water H2O Thursday

Both Joel and I longed to breathe the briny air and hear again the timeless voice of the sea. A fortnight past, we made our way once more to the cliff-tops overlooking Bridgewater Bay at Blairgowrie, drawn by the desire to attempt long-exposure photography in a place yet untried. Though the conditions were far from perfect, the novelty of the location, with its rugged beauty and the promise of new discovery, gave the venture a certain poetry of its own. Joel, ever patient, came to collect me from my home, but through my own misjudgment—having earlier taken my mother to supper—I delayed him by forty minutes. That tardiness weighed heavily upon me, for I felt I had stolen time from both him and the sea itself.

Bridgewater Bay, where we stood, is no ordinary shoreline. It is a place where the restless waters of Bass Strait carve their legend into limestone cliffs and sandstone shelves, where tidal pools mirror the heavens and the wind carries whispers of ancient times. Once a hunting and gathering ground for the Boonwurrung people, who knew the rhythms of these shores long before our cameras sought to capture their moods, it later became part of the maritime frontier of the Mornington Peninsula. The bay has borne witness to shipwrecks and storms, and its eroded rock formations—arched, honeycombed, and sculpted by centuries—stand as natural monuments to endurance.

Thus, as Joel and I set up our tripods against the evening light, I could not help but feel that our own small pursuit of a perfect image was but a fleeting gesture in the vast theatre of time. The bay, with its layered history of people, tides, and stone, seemed to forgive my lateness, reminding me that all human haste dissolves before the patience of the ocean

Sony A7RV

FE 16mm f1.8 G

Linking Water H2O Thursday

Thursday, July 31, 2025

Bridgewater Bay Blairgowrie for Water H2O Thursday

Bridgewater Bay, located in Blairgowrie on the Mornington Peninsula near Melbourne, is a stunning coastal attraction known for its rugged beauty, striking rock formations, and picturesque ocean views. This secluded bay is a favorite among nature lovers, hikers, and photographers, offering a unique blend of natural splendor and adventure.