The day after the night before

It doesn't get any busier at Sandy Beach than on a very warm New Year's Day round about 3:30 PM. It's about 26 degrees Celsius, with a very comfortable northerly stroking my body, and the sky wispy with cirrus clouds. There must be up to 30 people on the full length of the beach which is about ... well, I haven't paced it but I suppose about a kilometre.

I saw only one plastic party popper stranded on the sand after last night, but then, most of the fireworks were in people's backyards. Not really much litter of any kind, considering. Up the south end there's a group of maybe a dozen what look like teenagers from my spot in the middle, and scattered teen surfers are having a go along Sandy, a few boys and a couple of girls -- a crowd for this beach. What might they be thinking on this first day after a year of so much bad news? Not news, that's for sure. Who is going with whom, what a great rave last night, who woke up with whom. By this time of the day they will be pretty much over their hangovers, because they're young. An old fella (not much older than me, I suppose) with a hat and white T-shirt, ambles along on his own. A large, lone lady in black cozzie is reading something -- maybe a Christmas prezzie.

Up above the southern headland flies a hang glider, also uncommon for round here. There are few birds. It's the holidays, and things are buzzing with human activity, in a usually deserted sort of way. This is the only week they ever do around here, but 25 km south of here at Coffs Harbour, the beaches will be almost packed.