It’s just before dawn and I’m on the freeway. The first city exit is on my left and as I indicate for the ramp, I can see pink spreading quickly across the low cloud scattered across the eastern sky. Decision time. Do I pull over as soon as I find a parking spot?
Here’s the equation. My view will be obscured by several structures. Yes, I have a long lens, but I don’t fancy my chances of a great shot here. So, do I drive on for another five minutes, park my car in a multi-storey car park on the fringe of the city and then hot-foot it down to the river?
I take the second option, knowing that the pink tinges will have vanished by the time I get there. About seven or eight minutes later, I’m down by the river at Southbank, with Princes Bridge about 250 metres away, between me and the sunrise.
I’m not surprised to see that the colours have changed drastically. Now they span gold and several shades of brown. Do I walk or sprint to the bridge to get a clear composition of the sky? No, I decide to compose a shot that is distinctly Melbourne.
I include the bridge and I choose the overhanging branch of a nearby plane tree as a handy motif. It’s very quiet because even the early-morning trickle of office workers has not started. There is no one on the riverbank, no one on the footbridge and no one in my immediate vicinity.
Because of my solitude, I hear a soft but familiar Melbourne sound. It is the sound of kayakers’ oars as their glide through the still water. It’s only at this stage that I notice the golden glow across the metal handrails in front of me.
Half an hour later, the sky is overcast and grey. It’s a bit like life, isn’t it? Sometimes you have to make an effort to see true beauty rather than the mundane. And it’s always worth it.
For other participants in Dot’s concept, go to Sky Watch HQ.