The previous rage of the heavens was ferocious. Angry waves blitzed the first echelons of the rainforest floating in a veil of sea spray, like a battering ram, littering the permanently volatile border of two realms with debris as far as the eye could see. This isn’t quite over yet. A fresh wall of clouds is rolling in a quiet and deliberate fashion towards the luminous climax of another coastal storm. There is a strangely cold visual poetry associated with Nature’s power plays and the peculiar way it intoxicates eyewitnesses with an infectious anxiety.