Where Are The Stingrays?

Sultry nights in Terrigal primed me to lurk around the restful cup of the cove. It reminded me of my Sydney childhood. Coves seemed to capture salty air and slow down time. At the Haven, the aromas from restaurants merged with the tang of bream and seaweed from that languid green sea. I loved watching the lazy shore breaks as they pawed the neat edge of the Bay. My bones softened as my breathing unfurled.

Shrill Council floodlights shattered over the quiet ocean surface to reveal dark clouds beneath. With a closer eye, I saw they were the huge pancake shadows of local bull rays perusing the emerald shallows. They delighted me, surprised me and lifted me into a summer night’s optimism.

I was thankful for these gracious marine creatures, so close to civilization — diners, strollers, fishermen and lovers. I uttered my mantra, this is why I moved here.

The days of lonesome yet free-wheeling walks on my own around the empty Haven have disappeared. Now it’s bodies, bodies, bodies, all on fitness, eating, or sea-activity agendas. I’ve realized that to wander aimlessly is precious. To live in an environment which allows one to reflectively meander is rare.

I like to be dreamy. Yet the landscape and atmosphere which allows it, almost conspires with it, has changed. This is a post-Covid ‘awakened’ Central Coast! The relaxed commuter traffic of old is just a memory as the latest SUV’S, on urgent missions, sardine-pack the roads. There is tension in the air, and on the faces, too. 

They are different faces, with sharpened expressions and pinpoint eyes. There is no hiding. You can taste Real Estate loot lacing the eateries. I look for those stingrays on unrelenting summer nights, but they have vanished to quieter shores.