2km of beach to myself and the tide was out

The bush track between our home and the beach meanders through a mutton bird rookery and is over-hung with tea tree scrub, and clematis and New Zealand spinach creepers. About halfway along the track you enter a cathedral-like overhang of vegetation layered with lush creepers.

This is the point where I pause, because around the corner a wide vista of beach will open up before me -- and I'll see whether the tide is in or out, and more importantly, I'll know if I have the beach to myself.

After last week's gale force winds and rain, today's balmy 26°C and gentle breeze was idyllic. At 6 p.m. I paused at my usual place along the track and then rounded the corner. A thrill of pleasure surged through me. I had 2 km of beach to myself and the tide was out. Sandy beaches, rocky reefs with pools, and pockets of shells nestled amongst softly coloured and textured seaweeds spread out before me.

Once on the beach, I removed Major's harness and lead, slipped off my sandals and rolled up my jeans. For half an hour or so I paddled, explored, walked and played with Major, who loves retrieving sticks from the water. Who could ask for more?