I don’t know about you, but I’m not getting any younger. In fact last month – much to my astonishment – I turned 66. ‘Happy birthday you old devil … or two thirds of one at least’, observed a friend. But somehow on that gloriously still late-March morning at Collaroy I felt more like a grain of sand or a piece of seaweed, as a tiny swell wrapped in on occasion around the pool. These days – despite years of lap swimming and lower-back exercises – my ‘jumping-up’ muscles are slowly atrophying. Indeed quite often I’m (reduced to surfing in) ‘on my knees’!

But it’s still priceless paddling out, bobbing about, having a chat, alert to the pulse.

Feeling part of it all … the universe, I mean.