The rain was sprinkling down causing a beautiful misty fog that covered the horizon. We walked on the sand throwing stones in the water. Who threw furtherest. There was a small bite to the air, but nothing that stopped this for some reason being one of those moments. A moment to remember.
I noticed a man sitting on the grass bank that led down to the beach. His beard white and long. His cap that sunk over his head was an All Blacks cap. He belonged there. Beer in hand and happy to chat. We talked about Long Bay, the next beach down. Developments of housing and movements and constructions in the area. He told of his travel stories to 90 Mile Beach, being stuck in the sand. His name is John. A nice man.