The kookaburras start their territorial battles before dawn, shouting at each other across their arborial borders. Greyish light filters through the bedroom windows, a promise of the end of night. It’s 4:30am. What the hell, I can’t sleep anyway. I head for the beach, taking both my cameras with me. It isn’t cold. Temperatures on summer nights rarely fall to less than 20C. In fact, the car’s outside temperature records as 27C.
I park my car at my usual haunt, where Tooan-tooan creek finishes its meandering flow at the bay. The streetlights are still on, but on the horizon high cloud is tinged with colour. I walk out on the rippled sand bar, splashing through shallow tidal pools with my bare feet, looking for a good place to take a shot. There’s a breeze, and a slight chop, but the tides is at half, and there are pools to reflect the water as the sun rises over the land, even if it isn’t going to be the mirror-perfect conditions I’d hoped for.
I wait. Fraser Island is a shadow in the distance. The last of the bats row through the sky above my head, returning to their roost at the creek behind me. The air is full of high pitched complaints as the colony’s denizens jostle for position in the trees. Beside me, small wavelets roll onto the sand, an endless susurration.
The colour along the horizon deepens, flares into orange. The sun’s not far away. Behind me, ibises which have roosted on the trees above the bat colony launch into the air to begin their day, flying in stately triangle formation to their feeding grounds. Butcher birds warble in the trees along the shoreline, and groups of gleeful lorikeets swoop, shrieking, to announce the coming of the day.
People appear, some alone, a few with dogs, letting them play in the shallow water before the heat of the day. They cross onto the main sand bank between me and the rising sun and I swear at them under my breath, urging them away so they don’t spoil my shot, as if I have sole ownership of this place at this time.
Of course, they don’t spoil the shot. In fact, they give it greater meaning.
As I amble back towards my car, I notice a large bird. I can’t see it clearly, but I know them so well now, just by their flight. It is a Brahmani Kite, and as it approaches, even though there’s not enough light for a decent shot, I take one, anyway.
Good morning, world. It’s a beautiful day.
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