Alluring Precipices
Try not to miss me at the edge!
Swelling waves pounding against the steadfast rocks at the base of escarpment, several feet below, do little to dampen my penchant for precipices. The adventurous part of me refuses to say 'no' to a tantalising shot at the edge of the earth. With a palpitating heart and tremble in my limbs I crawl to the point I can push furthest to, take a shot, and swiftly return to the safety net of the land. The rushing crests breaking right beneath along with the roar induce dizziness - an uneasy feeling of toppling and tumbling helplessly to eternal rest. That what-if, that sheer thought of flailing and plummeting, that fluttering of heart in trepidation is inseparable from my love for those daredevil shots, or maybe that inexplicable feeling inspires this peculiar propensity; I can't really say for sure!
But that rush of adrenaline is repulsive to the more docile side of myself that embarrassingly screams for help when thrown off the feet by a wild wave at knee-deep sea by the soft sandy beach. Once such photo-shoots are brought off, a sense of guilt creeps in knowing fully well that a slight blip on the uneven surface of precipices, worn by wind and waves, is not only fatal but also devastating for the lives that are inextricably tied to mine.
The inky blue water looks much calmer than the turquoise-white crests hammering the base below. Little wonder that the after-thoughts were nightmarish, not unlike 'The Woes of Mrs Weasley' - a broken body claimed by waves and dragged to the ocean, devoured by denizens of the deep while the dear ones ashore stood in stupor. If they cried out my name, I'd be gone before their voices reached me.
Thus, with these ultimate shots at Wattamollah Royal Coastal Walk, I finally resign from this awkwardly tingling sense of adventure, shunning the allure of precipices forever.
I've had enough for my collection of daring photos on precipices, captured for over about 15 years, and have realised this madness has to end. With no expertise or assistance in the vicinity, these desperate and crass acts are nothing less than suicidal. What I believed to be 'cool' is actually indubitably an asininity!
It all started back in 2006 at Acadia National Park, Maine.
But the craggy shores Sydney offered, snowballed my desires. The allure has been inescapable. So, with heart racing faster than the waves, I managed to pull off these unique shots at perilous points before I finally concluded!
Being expeditious between Tamarama and Bondi
I'll, however, continue to carefully caper around and click on the safer rocks jutting out to form rugged backgrounds with their variegated striations, grooves, and crevices. These are the safer ones at Maroubra, Palm Beach, Terrigal Beach, and Cremorne Point at different times.
These that I considered safer, had a caveat of 3 fatal incidents
A couple of kilometers from here, in an unfortunate event, a 20-year old succumbed to death from a 30-metre fall within a day I published my article. The ones that thrills me at Wattamoolah and Bondi are at least 200m above the waters and for a good reason has no attached proviso - nobody ventures there. After reading the news, my heart was heavy with remorse and I unpublished the post.
Palm Beach
Terrigal
Dona, Sydney, Jan'22
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