So I managed to break free of the hostage situation that sums up my relationship to bed on a winters morning and drag myself out to watch the sun come up on Picnic Point. I expected we would not be alone but was surprised that there were at least a dozen people with the same idea, including one family with young children and another family with young adult children. It felt kind of nice to be sharing the experience with others. A kind of primitive joy as we all stood or sat facing the east and watching the slow rising reveal of light into the sky. The predawn twilight lasted at least thirty minutes with venus still visible in the sky, a lone twinkling body as the sun began to rise.
We arrived early, when it was still dark, but I knew the dawn was not far away simply by the cacophonous presence of kookaburras, always the first birds up, they know the early bird gets the worm.
From before the dawn you could watch and hear the constant stream of traffic up and down the range, even with the new bypass the range is still surprisingly busy. That stretch of road is never dark or silent. While the morning was cool it worries me that it is not as cold as it should be, our winters are definitely milder. The coolness was bracing and refreshing like a dip in a cold ocean, and almost as exhilarating. I savour the cooler weather knowing that when summer comes it will be hot, probably very hot and often for days on end without relief. Climate change is the horror story we are now living through, but I can still savour a beautiful morning.