The colours of Autumn on Quarry Hill.

After stumbling across this new location on Quarry Hill only recently, I was keen to commit the trip to memory by having another stab in the dark. It’s getting a little easier now with sunrise occurring later, meaning I don’t need to get up until 4am. As I made my way to the base of Quarry Hill I marvelled at all the little shiny jewels scattered on the ground, glistening in the light of my headlamp. I often notice these things - they’re actually the eyes of tiny ground-dwelling spiders hoping for a feed.

With the dead fire-scorched brush littering the side of the mountain there are points where you have to fight your way through. There’s still a few places where the trail gets confusing and branches out in multiple directions. Thankfully, the Bikie memorial is a good landmark, so if you reach that you know you’re in the right direction. One final steep climb and I get to the new detour. 

I think there must be about 50 possible ways to get through there (I swear it’s a different way every time), but after fighting through shrubs and cobwebs I finally got to the spot unscathed. The beautiful regrowth makes a nice foreground and I took along a high-power strobe to light it up for this morning. 

Everything happened right on cue this morning- an early burst of colour from a combination of cirrus and alto-cumulous cloud (my favourite mix of clouds for colour) heralded what was going to be a brilliant dawn sky. I always like to time the shot to coincide with the light from the lighthouse, so it was a game of patience to get those comps. The great thing about this new spot is that I can casually stroll over to get a nice vista of the northern horizon with the parade of coastal hills leading into a blue and pink sky. The early blast of wind signalled the arrival of the sun as it poked its rays through a small break in the clouds - in contrast to the light from the beacon in the lighthouse that faithfully shone the way for wayward seafarers. The familiar buzz of the bush flies arrived and  I packed up and retraced my steps back down - it looks so much more precarious going down in daylight. Glad I can’t see the drop on the way up in the dark. I think I know the way back now.