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

Sierra Nevada Rocks Sunset, Portsea for Skywatch Friday

 

A place I once frequented, though visiting has become increasingly difficult to plan. The Laowa lens creates a pronounced vignetting that deepens the atmosphere of this sombre image, casting an almost timeless mood over the scene.

The Nevada Rocks of Portsea, located along the Mornington Peninsula’s rugged southern coast, form part of the dramatic basalt and sandstone formations that have withstood relentless winds and tides from Bass Strait for millennia. These rocks tell the story of ancient volcanic activity and gradual marine erosion that shaped Victoria’s coastal geology. Over time, the elements carved out weathered ledges and sculptural outcrops that today stand as both a natural wonder and a silent witness to the passage of time.

Human presence here has long been intertwined with the sea. Early European settlers and fishermen sought shelter in the coves, while Portsea itself grew into a seaside retreat in the late nineteenth century, famed for its cliff-top mansions and its proximity to Fort Nepean—once a sentinel guarding the entrance to Port Phillip Bay. Today, Nevada Rocks remains a place of quiet solitude and untamed beauty, where the power of nature meets traces of human history in equal measure.

Sony A7RV

Laowa 9mm f5.6 

Linking Skywatch Friday

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

Pearses Bay Blairgowrie for Water H2O Thursday

 

Last weekend, Joel and I made a quick visit to Pearses Bay near Blairgowrie. The bay remains remarkably untouched and little visited, a quiet stretch of coastline where rugged limestone cliffs frame the ocean and narrow pathways lead down to the sand. The sound of waves breaking against the rocks echoes through the coves, and on a calm day the water takes on a striking clarity, with hues of turquoise blending into the deep blue of Bass Strait. It is the kind of place where one feels both secluded and restored, far from the busier beaches nearby.

On returning, I found myself once again immersed in a heavy workload. My professional commitments have increased significantly over the past month, which has made me reflect on how quickly circumstances can shift. Not long ago, I was contemplating the idea of semi-retirement. In some ways, the widespread acceptance of telehealth by those living in regional areas has reshaped the practice of medicine—sometimes into a model that can feel reduced to what one might easily search for online. To add to the challenge, I have also endured a series of flu infections contracted from the nursing homes I visit.

Sony A7RV

FE 16mm f1.8 G

Linking Water H2O Thursday

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

Portsea Beach, Mornington Peninsula for Skywatch Friday

 

This steadfast rock has ever been my compass for long exposures, a sentinel against the shifting tides and the passing of seasons. Last weekend the heavens conspired with storm and rain, and so I turned from the unruly present to the stillness of my archives, where calmer skies and gentler seas remain preserved.

Portsea Beach itself is a place where time and tide weave their eternal dance. The cliffs and outcrops, born of sandstone and limestone laid down in forgotten oceans, stand weathered yet unyielding, their faces etched by centuries of wind and wave. Each stone bears the script of ages, each ripple of sand a fleeting verse upon the vast poem of the shore.

Here the sea gathers its strength, for the Southern Ocean presses against the narrow Heads, surging into Port Phillip Bay with a restless spirit. The waters may gleam like glass beneath a quiet dawn, yet within them lies the memory of tempests, of ships dashed and lives claimed. Beneath it all, the Bunurong people once walked these sands with reverence, their footsteps bound to the rhythm of tide and season, reading the coast as one might a sacred text.

To stand upon Portsea Beach is to linger at the threshold of worlds—the ancient and the present, the serene and the perilous. It is a place where nature holds dominion, and where the solitary rock, enduring amid the breakers, becomes not merely a subject for the lens but a symbol of patience, memory, and the silent grandeur of the sea.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Skywatch Friday

Melbourne Skyline Panorama for Skywatch Friday

 

The panorama of Melbourne Sky View. Joel and I did not feel innovative. We went to grab the famous lemon pie from Cliffton Hill then Northcote to take this drone shot. 

DJ Mini Pro4 

Linking 
Skywatch Friday

Forest Cave Phillip Island for Water H2O Thursday

 

I have sought a somewhat high-key approach in this composition. Though it is not the product of a long exposure, I endeavoured to capture the advancing waves as they swept across the shore, smoothing the sand as though polishing a vast marble floor. The shutter was set at neither too swift nor too languid a pace, thereby rendering a natural softness in the motion of the sea.

This scene unfolds upon one of Phillip Island’s secluded forest-fringed cave beaches, where rugged cliffs and weathered rock bear silent witness to millennia of wind and tide. The dense coastal woodland above, with its canopy of eucalypt and tea-tree, whispers of an ancient landscape that has sheltered wildlife and echoed with the passage of the Bunurong people long before European discovery. Here, in the meeting of forest, stone, and sea, the rhythms of history and nature are inscribed in every grain of sand and every retreating wave.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Water H2O Thursday

Cadillac Gorge Coast Gippsland for Skywatch Friday

 

Cadillac Gorge in Gippsland is a place of singular beauty, best revealed in its fullness when the tide runs high. Unlike many locations along the coast near Melbourne, which lose much of their drama to the receding waters, this gorge gains its splendour precisely at the hour when the sea presses inward, filling its chasms with heaving, silvered tides. It was during the quiet severity of winter that this particular scene was captured, when the air was sharp, the sea restless, and the light cast a subdued, almost austere glow across the stone.

The natural history of the gorge is deeply rooted in the geological character of Gippsland’s coast. Over countless millennia, waves and weather chiselled away at the softer rock, leaving behind a rugged cleft where the sea now surges and withdraws in eternal rhythm. The walls of the gorge bear silent testimony to this slow labour of time, their strata marking ancient epochs of earth and ocean. In winter, sea-spray often wreathes the rocks in a fine mist, and birdlife—gulls, cormorants, and the occasional sea eagle—can be seen circling above, drawn by the bounty of the waters.

The human history of Cadillac Gorge, though quieter, is no less meaningful. Long before European settlement, the coastal country of Gippsland was part of the traditional lands of the Gunai/Kurnai people, for whom the shorelines and sea caves were places of food gathering, story, and spiritual connection. With colonisation, the coast became a frontier for sealing, fishing, and later, tourism, as travellers from Melbourne sought out wild beauty beyond the city. Today, though relatively little known compared with the more frequented coves of Phillip Island or the Great Ocean Road, Cadillac Gorge stands as one of those hidden places that rewards patient discovery.

Thus, a photograph taken here at high tide is not merely an image of rocks and water: it is a moment within a much older story, shaped by the forces of earth and sea, and framed by the layered presence of human history upon the land.

Sony A7RV

FE 16-35mm f2.8 GM

Linking Skywatch Friday

Kitty Miller Bay Phillip Island for Water H2O Thursday

 

Kitty Miller Bay, situated on the southern coast of Phillip Island, is renowned as a premier destination for surfing, drawing enthusiasts with its consistently favorable waves and striking coastal scenery. The bay, framed by dramatic cliffs and pristine sandy shores, bears witness to both natural and human history. Its geological formations tell the story of ancient coastal processes, while the surrounding vegetation reflects the island’s unique flora adapted to the harsh marine environment. Historically, the area has attracted mariners, and remnants of shipwrecks along the shore serve as poignant reminders of the perilous seas that once challenged early navigation. I once visited Kitty Miller Bay in pursuit of capturing a compelling photograph of one such shipwreck, seeking to preserve the interplay of natural beauty and historical resonance in a single image.

Sony A7RV

FE 70-200mm f4 G

Linking Water H2O Thursday

Magic Beach Cape Woolamai Phillip Island for Skywatch Friday

 

Magic Beach, revealed only at low tide along the sweeping shores of Cape Woolamai on Phillip Island, is a place where the natural and the personal converge in quiet wonder. When the ocean withdraws, the sea floor unveils a scatter of ancient rocks, their surfaces carved and smoothed over millennia by waves and wind. These formations are the remnants of a powerful volcanic past, for Cape Woolamai itself is born of basaltic flows and granite intrusions that date back millions of years, their rugged cliffs now standing sentinel over Bass Strait. Long before European arrival, this coastline formed part of the lands of the Bunurong people, who knew its rhythms of tide, bird, and season. Today, it remains both a sanctuary for migratory seabirds and a dramatic landscape that draws the eye and stirs the imagination.

It was here, during the pandemic year when Melbourne lay under lockdown, that I came alone with my newly acquired Sony A7RIV, predecessor of the A7RV, eager to explore its capabilities. Magic Beach seemed an apt stage for such an experiment. I found myself entranced by the interplay of light and shadow across tide pools and rocks, using HDR techniques I had never attempted with my earlier Panasonic or Canon cameras. The solitude of that moment—an island shore, a receding tide, the silence broken only by surf—transformed the practice of photography into something almost meditative. In that fleeting communion, I glimpsed both the deep history of Cape Woolamai and the personal magic of discovery, as if the land itself conspired with my lens to etch memory into image.

Sony A7RIV

FE 16-35mm f2.8 GM

Linking Skywatch Friday

Nyah West sunrise for Skywatch Friday

 

Nyah West is the outback town that I visited for monthly nursing home visit. Outside the care facility, the sunrise is always pretty like this.

Sony A7RV

FE 135mm f1.8 GM

Linking Skywatch Friday

Portsea Back Beach for Skywatch Friday

 

My visit to this area during an unusually low tide proved most rewarding in terms of photographic endeavour. The light, delicate and fleeting, was at its finest just before the onset of complete darkness. The exposed ocean floor took on a strange, otherworldly appearance—almost alien in aspect. Portsea itself, a refined and affluent enclave favoured by the wealthy, remains largely untouched by the ordinary tourist trail. Few ventures beyond the cave gate that marks the divide from London Bridge, lending this particular stretch a sense of quiet seclusion and hidden charm.

Sony A7RV

Laowa 9mm f5.6

Linking Skywatch Friday

Grantville Jetty Sunset for Skywatch Friday

 

Grantville lies not far from Tenby Point, and it was this proximity that led Joel and me to visit—drawn, curiously enough, by a singular souvlaki shop, notable for being operated by Greeks rather than the more common Chinese proprietors. The lamb served here is remarkably succulent, richly complemented by a garlicky parsley sauce that lingers pleasantly on the palate.

Just behind the modest establishment stands the town's jetty, offering a quiet vista over the water. Thus, our visit served a dual purpose—culinary and contemplative—allowing us, as the saying goes, to kill two birds with one stone.

Sony A7RV

FE 14mm f1.8 GM

Linking Skywatch Friday

Pinnacles, Cape Woolamai, Victoria for Skywatch Friday

 

What I truly seek is a sky adorned with fish-scale clouds. The Pinnacles, indeed, stand as one of Melbourne’s most remarkable destinations for photography.

At Cape Woolamai’s Pinnacles on Phillip Island, the boulder rocks are covered with vibrant green moss, creating a striking contrast against the pink granite formations. These ancient rocks, formed approximately 360 million years ago from slowly cooled molten magma, have been sculpted over time by relentless ocean waves and winds. The moss thrives in the moist, salty air, adding a lush texture to the rugged landscape. This natural tapestry enhances the visual appeal of the area, making it a popular spot for photographers and nature enthusiasts alike. The combination of geological history and thriving plant life exemplifies the dynamic beauty of this coastal environment

Sony A7RV

FE 16-35mm f2.8 GM

Linking Sky Watch Friday

Portsea back beach, Mornington Peninsula for Water H2O Thursday

 

Joel will be engaged with his in-laws over the coming fortnight, so we resolved to visit the back beach at Portsea before the demands of daily life took hold once more. The excursion was imbued with a creamy noir quality, lending the moment a sense of quiet drama and reflection. It also afforded me the opportunity to test my new neutral density filter paired with the 35mm f/1.4 lens.

Sony A7RV

FE 35mm f1.4 GM

Linking Water H2O Thursday

Bridgewater Bay Blairgowrie for Skywatch Friday

 

Winter sunsets often display warmer and more vivid hues than those of summer. This is partly due to the sun being farther from the Earth during the winter months. I find particular enjoyment in photographing sunsets during this season, as Joel and I are then able to visit the local fish and chip shop afterwards, with the sun setting conveniently around five o'clock.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4

Linking Skywatch Friday

Bridgewater Bay, Mornington Peninsula Sunset for Skywatch Friday

 

No foreground is discernible save for the advancing waves, their restless motion ever drawing the eye. Above, the golden sky is suffused with a deep, rich orange hue, casting a solemn glow upon the scene. Upon the distant horizon to the right, two ships are faintly discerned, their silhouettes a testament to the era when maritime vessels plied these waters, linking the burgeoning settlements of Melbourne with distant lands. The cliffs of Bridgewater Bay, steeped in history, stand guard nearby—once a silent witness to the passage of explorers and traders who shaped the destiny of this southern shore.

Sony A7RV

FE 70-200mm f4 G

Linking Sky Watch Friday

London Bridge Remains, Portsea, Mornington Peninsula for Sunday Best

 

Situated upon the windswept coast of Portsea, at the southernmost tip of the Mornington Peninsula in Victoria, Australia, the site known as London Bridge was once crowned by a magnificent natural arch—an enduring testament to the erosive power and artistry of the sea. Fashioned over countless centuries, the arch stood as both a geological marvel and a cherished local landmark, drawing visitors to behold its stark beauty and the thunderous majesty of the ocean that sculpted it.

The great arch succumbed to the inevitable work of time and tide, collapsing in the early twenty-first century and thus altering the visage of the coastline forever. Yet the place remains imbued with a kind of solemn grandeur. Where once stone spanned sky, now only remnants of its former glory stand—weathered, noble, and quiet.

I used to frequent this place often, long before I began to spend my weekends in the company of Joel. In those days, I found in the solitude of London Bridge a peculiar and profound kind of solace. Though the arch itself has long since fallen, the sea, ever faithful to its art, continues its delicate work. At high tide, waters surge into the heart of what remains—a rocky cavernous bowl—filling it with a shimmering pool of seawater that dances and glistens in the sunlight. It is a sight of singular, haunting beauty.

Joel, however, regarded the place with far less affection. To him, it was barren and uninspiring, its charms too subtle, its colours too subdued. I suppose we all have our own preferences. Where I perceived wild poetry, he found only a muted coast. And yet, I cannot help but feel that therein lies its power: in the understated, in the stripped-down silence of land and sea at meeting point.

Though the bridge itself is no more, the spirit of London Bridge endures—etched not only in the weathered stone and the tides that whisper through its remains, but also in the hearts of those who once stood before it and felt, if only for a moment, the immensity of the earth’s quiet grandeur.

Sony A7RIV

FE 16-35mm f2.8 GM

Linking Sunday Best

Balnarring Beach, Mornington Peninsula for Skywatch Friday

 

In the first photograph, Joel is visible in the distance, intently focused on photographing seaweed along the shoreline. The air has grown markedly cooler, and the sky bears the pale, steely blue that signals the quiet approach of winter. It is in such moments that the necessity of reconnecting with the natural world becomes most apparent—calming, grounding, and essential to the soul.

Balnarring Beach, located on the Mornington Peninsula southeast of Melbourne, stretches along the calm waters of Western Port Bay. Its gentle crescent shape and serene outlook toward Phillip Island make it a place of both quiet retreat and natural charm. The area is known for its safe swimming waters, expansive foreshore reserves, and the peaceful rhythm of tidal life.

The name “Balnarring” is thought to originate from Indigenous words meaning “little” and “gumtree,” a poetic nod to the native landscape. European settlement began in earnest in the 1840s when pastoral stations were established, and by the latter half of the 19th century, Balnarring had grown to include a post office, a school, and a church. The arrival of the railway in the early 20th century further connected the township with surrounding areas, allowing more visitors to discover its coastal beauty.

Balnarring Beach—once also known as Tulum Beach—has long held a quiet reputation as a haven for holidaymakers and nature lovers. In more recent times, it was honoured as one of Australia's cleanest beaches, a testament to the community's stewardship and respect for the land.

Even as seasons shift and the cold edges in, Balnarring Beach remains a place of stillness and reflection—a coastal landscape where history, nature, and memory meet in tranquil harmony.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Skywatch Friday

The past fortnight has been exceedingly busy for me. Despite the considerable amount of work I have undertaken, the returns have felt rather meagre. Joel and I have been diligently studying investments in the Japanese stock market, prompted by Warren Buffett’s decision to reallocate his wealth into Japanese equities.