Yesterday, Fabio and I took a picnic lunch down to one of our favourite beaches, a place we used to visit regularly when we were courting.
We lie on a soft blanket on a little grassy hill, and look down over this tiny bay, more a cove really. It's a small strip of white, gritty sand, anchored at both ends by a careless jumble of big brown rocks.
The water, green at the shore and edged in lacy white foam, becomes the most brilliant turquoise a little further out, and then a deep indigo. There is a distant brown and blue smudge of land far away on the horizon.
All we can hear is the endless wash of waves on the sand, some kookaburras gently squabbling over a few crusts from lunch, and tiny birds chirruping in the bushes behind us.
We smell crushed gum leaves, fresh grass, the salt of the sea, and the fragrance of a cup of tea, as we lie here, reading and day-dreaming.
Over us, the deep solid blue bowl of the sky, stretching from horizon to horizon, perfectly cloudless.....
this is paradise.