The Sunrise Project

Life was seriously disrupted in 2019 and 2020. First by horrific bushfires and then by the Covid crisis. Throughout the months of bushfires and lockdown, I never forgot how lucky we were to live in a wealthy country with all the essentials of life. But, there was a little pizzazz that life usually held missing, so one week in late autumn I decided to get up and be outside somewhere - self-powered - to see the sunrise every day for one week. This is the story of that week.

Day 1 Currowan Ridge:

Doug is sceptical about my ability to get up when it is still dark, but I wake up before the 5 am alarm, make coffee, fill a thermos and am out the door by 5.15 am and on the road to Currowan forest.

Early morning Currowan forest

I have a secondary purpose, which is to look at some large granite boulders, so I walk up a fire road to ridge top in the dark. The sky slowly brightens. A lovely sunrise over the forest to the east. I am high enough above the valley to watch as the sun tips up over the horizon. The spotted gum forest has been burnt by bushfires but the gums are coming back. Now, however, their trunks are pale white and in the low light of a winter sun they glow luminescently in the dark.

Sunrise over Currowan forest

There are good boulders and I spend a few hours happily wandering through the forest. A big granite dome provides an excellent breakfast spot.

Breakfast rock

Day 2: Sea Kayaking and Surfing

It is a short trolley to our local beach which is quiet year round and deserted before dawn. Orange and pink tingeing the sky as I launch and slide out on the inky water. It is a cool morning and I paddle across the bay watching the sky to catch the moment the sun slides above the forested ridge. Cool air is draining off the land to the warmer sea and there is a haze of sea mist along the shore.

Before dawn, Sunshine Cove

It feels late, almost 7 am, when the sun finally breaks right above the trees and lights up the bay. With the sun behind me, I paddle around to Cullendulla where, when the swell is large and the period is long, there is good kayak surfing. I catch a couple of waves into the beach. I am stiff from the cool air and almost capsize a couple of times but a sunny spot on the beach, a warm jacket and some hot coffee from my thermos and I am refreshed and more importantly warmed up.

Morning sun over Murramarang

Day 3: Observation Point

Sleep in this morning as I don't have far to go. Onto my bike in the early dawn and up to a local lookout. Dawn over the bay and islands with hot coffee from my thermos.

Snapper Island from Observation Head

Day 4: Sunshine Bay

This mornings sunrise was one of the best this week. Cold air from the land draining over the warm sea made a band of sea fog that was drifting slowly across the ocean. Snapper Island and the Tollgate Islands floated eerily through this mist. It was gentle dawn as I walked around the little headland track from bay to bay.

Sea mist floats towards the Tollgate Islands

Day 5: Wimbie Hill

It is a warm morning as I leave the house in the dark and walk an hour to the top of Wimbie Hill. The view is sheltered by big spotted gums that luckily survived the New Years Eve bushfires as this is a beautiful bit of remnant forest among residential housing. To get an unobstructed view I scramble down and up the rotten ridge that juts into the ocean. This is a tenuous route as it is steep and very, very loose.

Sunrise from Wimbie Hill

Coffee as the sun rises and the sky trends deep red, crimson, pink until finally just a bright beam of light shines down on the Tollgate Islands.

Beam of light on Tollgate Islands

Day 6: Mouth of the Clyde River

I am getting into the groove of rising in the dark, filling the thermos and heading outside for shoes, bike or kayak, whatever is the self-propelled transport of the day. This morning it was bicycle. I planned to see the sunrise over Snapper Island by cycling down to the breakwater at the mouth of the Clyde River. Although I have paddled past many times, I have never been by bike or foot and it was a little difficult finding my way in the dark.

Sunrise across the Bay

The big story of the morning was the moon which was huge and bright. The sun kind of slunk up the horizon, slowly without much fanfare, definitely overshadowed by the super moon.

Super moon from the mouth of the Clyde River

Day 7: Round Mountain Lookout

Watching the sunrise on day seven from Round Mountain lookout was strangely satisfying. The seven day sunrise project was not a big audacious goal. It required only minimal change to my normal daily routine. Getting up an hour or so earlier, and leaving home in the dark, instead of at first light, and yet, there was something about the project that made me appreciate each day a little more. 

Early morning light on single track

I have always thought that the secret to happiness in life lies in finding the joy in small things, and this week every morning I found joy in something that happens with metronomic regularity every single day - the sunrise. Finding some natural place in our increasingly unnatural world and watching the night fade and the day begin makes even the most ordinary day an extraordinary gift.  Go do it now.  

Sunrise from Round Mountain