End of Day 3. I very nearly did miss the sunset! Squealed out of the Turquoise Bay carpark (literally, thanks to that bloody fanbelt) at 5 past 5 then floored it the 45km back to Vlamingh Head, slowing down for the odd kangaroo. I hooned up the hill to the lighthouse, pulled over in a shower of dirt and jumped out to see the sun touching the horizon.
Sunset has always been my favourite time of day, and I have a particular love of sunsets over the ocean. It’s my meditation; I love the late rosy sunlight, the rhythmic pounding of the waves on the shore, and the lovely mindless tranquillity it brings me. Growing up I got to enjoy hundreds of sunsets over the Indian Ocean: from the beach, from the water tower, from the end of the jetty, from a handy roof.
I love the endless permutations of clouds and colours, and the peaceful beauty of it all that somehow makes me feel both empty and recharged at the same time. The babble of my mental budgies fades away. My worries too; I’m tiny compared to all that hugeness, and all the daily bullshit of life feels even smaller. I feel more grounded. Here on the W.A. coast with nothing in the way you can watch the sun disappear beyond the curve of the Earth, and almost feel the planet turning beneath your feet.
It makes me feel insignificant, yet safe. Safe on our tiny, beautiful blue speck of a planet in the endlessness of the universe.
This is all getting rather deep, isn’t it? … Well I did say it was my meditation.
Got back to the backpackers, had tea and Instagrammed a bunch of phone photos so everyone at home knew I wasn’t dead. Was in bed earlyish because that beautiful yet annoying full moon was due to set at 4.30am and I intended to be back at the lighthouse by then…
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