Just off the coast of this ruggedly beautiful Penguin beach, a storm is brewing. Dark clouds gather at the edges of the world where sea and sky merge - that twilight hour when the veil is thin. On the sand lies an ominous presage of a tragedy to come. She is lifeless. A mythical creature belonging both to this world and the mysterious deep, the fathomless, the unconscious. She symbolises the balance between the outer and the inner, the ego and the soul, our insatiable material pursuit and our deep inner wisdom and salvation. Alas, she has been crucified on the shores of our wilful blindness. Already it is coming: the relentless plundering, death, extinction, waste. This tide will be brutal, misguided and wanton. From the deep pools in the rock issues an eerie cry, an other-worldly keening. It is a lament for the death of our wild nature, our oneness, our mythos lost.