Fishing  at Ardyaloon

I followed my family in a single file, as we waded through the shores of Ardyaloon, dad in the lead with only one thing in mind: dinner. The ocean water was refreshing against the heat of the setting sun as we cast our hand lines into the crystal clear water. We followed a shoal of fish through mangroves, never minding that the roots protruded like crocodile teeth from the mud. They tickled my feet and made me laugh, but reminded myself of the sombre situation we were facing, because now we were in deeper waters. The sun was sinking lower into the horizon. Suddenly all I saw were rocks that looked like they morphed into crocodiles, and that was all I saw at every turn of my head. But if the wilderness taught me one thing, it is to be one with the wild.

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Author Anya Stride