I think about this question a lot more often as I get older. “What makes Fremantle special.” And “why do I live here…”

There are other beaches and other towns and other communities. And the physical ties that hold you to a place can sometimes seem to weaken as your life becomes more… sort of… insular. I think that’s the word I’m looking for?

I think this simple photograph is one of the best ways I can come up with to give an accurate answer.

I see this view every morning of the year and I never get tired of it. Sometimes it’s dark and raining, sometimes freezing cold and there’s a nor-wester blowing some bad weather in towards us - and sometimes it’s perfect. But I’m always excited to get down to the water’s edge and experience whatever the ocean's got to throw at me. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s not all that much fun. From July until October it can get pretty clogged up with seaweed, the water temperature gets down to its minimum of around fourteen degrees and the winter swell can knock you off your feet. But not once have I walked back up that pathway regretting having done it.

It’s weird how such a simple thing like throwing your body into the ocean everyday can grow to have so much impact on your life - physically and mentally. And sure, there are plenty of other places to live where that could still be part of my life, but I feel like my body has somehow absorbed some of the wet saltiness of this place and everywhere else feels a bit like an alien environment. I’ve got to know the feel and direction of the waves in every season, and I can tell where I am from the look of the ripples in the sand below me when I’m swimming.

And there’s the beach community that I’ve got to know over the years. The solitary girl who walks for miles and never really acknowledges anyone, 'Geoff with a G’ with his singular gait who sometimes stops for a quick chat, and I can see the Troy’s in the distance up on the soft sand carefully going through their gentle exercise routine. There’s Graeme in the water on his way down to Port Beach - I know it’s him by the way his right arm punches into the water. And I know Dale and Alison are out there somewhere ‘cos I recognise their gear on the beach. And there’s that bloke that I’ve seen for about 25 years walking up to the dog beach and back most days. Last year he started saying hi and recently we stopped to talk about a seal he’d seen the day before. I guess some people take a while to warm up…

It all starts and finishes with that view down the path.