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(Some feeble footage above of some hunting bull-shark chums of mine as they spilled up into the shallow swash as the tide began to recede. Is there anything better than having a shark swim up into one’s lap? I think not!)

Where the Sharks Rake the SwashI had a meeting with the Sharks that Sunrise, and they kept their promise. I arrived to the bruised sight of a brooding squall that aged the sky, scudding in and consuming the Dawn.

DSC_378022Pale rosy lightning sniveled across the slate blue of cloud as a lone dolphin breached cold in the distance.

Dawn's ConversationAnd there in the swash the pastel waves frilled and shivered as a cool wind lumbered forth, and a surge of fish spat out from the sea as the Sharks surfed right up to my feet.

Dawn's PostulationThe Surf Fisherman decided not to wade in. I know not why. The water was glorious.