There is a blue in the spectrum that the tropical sun draws to the foreground. The kind of blue that can brighten the blues out of your soul. This is colourful living by proximity. We were walking the tidal edge at sunrise and the images of driftwood and boats applauded the dance of the waves.
Landing on the beaches of Bali is a far cry from those beaches in the European theatre of war at the apex of both world wars.
The boats that are tethered to anchoring points cause every blue wave to dance in contrast. Each image a picture framed for painting. A memento to a landing — a craft turned art.
The carriers are no longer fleets, rather flotillas of feet packing a day of surf for another morning. There, every board is blue! Not really, but that is what the lens saw. A selection of Darwinian proportions.
Just a few steps past the memorial to a bombed out history the blue hoarding stands as more than memorial. This island of gentle living locals lives with scars of the longest night as reminder. A landing of shattering proportions where hoarding is not an illness but a covering for survival. Where the blue water washes away the memory of evil each day with tidal proportions. A blue baptism! Sprinkled in stories of memory.