'I walked a small track along the edge of the Oyster Harbour estuary almost daily for more than 20 years. I saw the colour of the water change with the sun, the clouds and the tannin that came down the Kalgan River after heavy rain. I saw grey days when mizzle washed all the colour away from water and sky, leaving a dense silence. After storms, I saw sea grass wrack washed up high onto the shore and wrapped around the base of the paperbarks. On winter evenings, I saw clouds lift just above the horizon and a shaft of sunset colour the fishing boat’s circle of pelicans as pink as flamingos.' (Introduction)