One spot that tends to work sometimes.
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ON Anzac Day (pics)
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ON Anzac Day (pics)
Conditions were scrappy at best on Friday, S-SE winds but a definate lump to the swell.
One spot that tends to work sometimes.
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One spot that tends to work sometimes.
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i agree with you there SAsurfa. very very alike bahaha.SAsurfa wrote:Yeah where is everyone
3
4, it's like those guys don't understand what's going on in the background
5, love the colour of the lip
And is this one of the places Zander2nd shot lately becasue #3 looks nearly the exactly the same wave as in his thread "pics of waves from times of late"
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moondoggie
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- Joined: Tue Feb 17, 2004 12:17 pm
- Location: Manly
SURFING. The peaceful thing to do on Anzac Day - the first surfers met their maker at a beach called Gallipoli...thought I'd share this with you, young men on a beach somewhere :
FOR THE FALLEN
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
Australia mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land, they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
Laurence Binyon © September, 1914
“Lest We Forget”
FOR THE FALLEN
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
Australia mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land, they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
Laurence Binyon © September, 1914
“Lest We Forget”
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Freshie Boy
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BenNickson
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