Tag Archives: dawn

Every day is a new experience #photo

I haven’t been sleeping all that well of late. That’s not a good thing in some ways, but on the other hand, it means I’m awake before dawn, and I can pop on down to the beach to see what the sunrise has to offer. Mostly, I go to the same place each time, where a tidal creek runs out into the bay. There’s a large sandbar at that point and at low tide I can get brilliant reflections in still, shallow water.

It’s different every day. Clouds, wind, tide – they all make a difference. And sometimes I’m treated to some special little extras. So come on down and share my morning.

Rain over Fraser

Rain over Fraser

When I arrived the sun was well below the horizon. Rain was falling over Fraser Island.

IMG_9814The moon was gibbous waning, so I could capture its reflection in a pool. People were already out and about, walking their dogs in the cool of the morning.

IMG_9840Then the sun came up in glorious golds, while that rain band moved up the coast, giving us a sprinkle on the way through.

IMG_9846When I turned around, the rain cell and the sun combined to form a perfect rainbow.

IMG_9835And this last shot shows my friend the Brahmani kite out for his first flight of the day

Awesome. And all for free.

 

One of those times, a watershed

IMG_9589Good heavens, it’s 2015 already. Whodathunk?

December 31st 2014 has, at the stroke of a clock, become January 1st 2015. It’s one of those times, a cusp, a watershed. Or so it would appear. We have to remember to put 2015, not 2014, when we write a date, and when our birthdays arrive we’ll be a year older.

But – I hate to be a wet blanket – nothing really changes. The days proceed. Sunrise will be about a minute later until the winter solstice, sunset a trifle earlier. Or the other way round if you’re in the northern hemisphere. Where I live the stifling summer heat and humidity will give way to the peaceful days of autumn. Maybe where you live the snow will melt, the days will lengthen and the buds will swell, the promise of new growth. Somewhere in the world people will find new ways to fight disease, develop a new application for the mobile phone and discover more fascinating facts about the universe we live in. Somewhere in the world there’ll be a war. Planes, will crash, terrorists will strike, rivers will flood, cyclones will wreak havoc.

Same old, same old.

Maybe this holiday is best used as a period of reflection, a brief pause in the cycle of time. When it comes down to it, the only thing we can really change is ourselves. Sometimes that can mean a huge difference to the rest of the world, sometimes not.

I don’t do the resolution thing. Time is an arbitrary construct, something we use to make sense of our lives. But I have a few small goals.

  • Get my weight back to 60kg not for cosmetic reasons, but because I don’t like being overweight
  • Publish at least two new books, because writing is better than joining a bowls club
  • Enjoy life and don’t fuss about things I can’t do much about because what’s the point in stressing?
  • Take more pictures because I love to capture moments of time and imprison them forever

Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed my books – especially those who have told me so. It’s nice to know I’m not just writing for myself. The new book is nearing completion. I’m hoping for a release in February or March. Thank you, too, for stopping by my blog. Do call again.

Best wishes to you all.

What the hell, I can’t sleep anyway

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.

IMG_4962 (1)

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.

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Of course, they don’t spoil the shot. In fact, they give it greater meaning.

IMG_4983As 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.