Before the sun comes up, our day begins.
In the small hours before dawn we touch as we wake.
Our breath comes slow, then fast.
They are our finest hours, those small ones.
On the horizon, the sun teases the landscape with light and warmth.
We part.
Before the sun comes up I flit off,
sometimes to capture what I can of those sun-teased dawn-moments.
And you go to create artful, beautiful, man-made things.
Muted colours, creativity, strong love.
Our sun always rises.
Sat in the soft sand to stretch my aching calves this morning. I’m a lazy toad of late, so it was easy to decide to stay a while and contemplate. I treated my eyes to the view down the morning-gold sand, past the quicksilver-gleam of surfers and out to sea. Half-way to the horizon I saw a whale spout, and then a flipper saluted the sun, and then the hump of a humpback broke the surface. Pretty fucking cool, don’t you think?
The Cyclops Toy Factory (now apartments), Leichhardt.
