Year - 2026 · Size - 30 x 21 cm / 11¾ x 8¼ in · Medium - Ink on paper

I parked the motorbike at the carpark on the north side of the lake and wandered south east around the curved sand spit that leads to the beginnings of the mouth of Lake Wallagoot. The journey underfoot was cushioned by a thick endless pile of washed up eelgrass — its ribbon-like leaves tangled together like spaghetti. Tall rushes grew up through the piles, bent and blown by the wind coming off the lake.

And it was windy. Little islands sat amongst the tidal flats, boasting the skeletal remains of deceased tea trees — reminders of drier times when the lake recedes. These islands are magnets for birds, and the closest one was no exception — pelicans, cormorants, seagulls and other smaller estuary fowl jostled for position while swans dotted the lake in the distance.

The wind was cold and blowing straight off the water, the sun coming and going as I sat there snuggled into an eelgrass mound and painted the scene before me.