On the first morning after Dean and I met, we watched a sunrise. It was one of those moments where I realised, probably rather belatedly, that I was living in the moment, and life was an experience of immensely amazing proportions. I was so taken with the moment, that I wanted to experience it all the time. Such was the power of that sunrise.
In the years that have followed, Dean and I have had the privilege of watching a number of other sunrises in the pursuit of our lives and that awe-inspiring moment.
One of these happened in a small town on the New South Wales coast called Red Rock.
I took Dean to Red Rock to recapture a small memory from my childhood that had managed to slip out of my grasp and float off into the ether. It was the memory of a family reunion on my mothers side, where I really got to know all of my cousins and came to an awesome realisation that I was related to some cool people. In fact, I liked the memory so much I wanted to get it back.
So Dean and I drove a little out of our way to Red Rock (all the places happen to be in a literal ‘out of the way’ location) to hunt for the memory. Not surprisingly, in more than a decade a lot had changed at Red Rock, and although I was able to piece together little slivers of my memories, they were gone to that happy place that I like to think all memories retire.
As a consolation prize, we got up as dawn was cleaving out the new day, and watched a sunrise.
The coast stretched out before us, lightly bundled in a blanket of pink rays as the sun carefully edged over the horizon. Sitting on the wet grass, we bathed in the new light of day, and marvelled as the world came into focus with the day. The red rocks of the coastline, a characteristic for which the area is named, sparked brighter with every moment, until they set fire to the sky itself.
And we watched everything roll out before us, from the coastline to the estuary behind us, and marvelled that we got to live in this moment as well as so many other. It was a memory I think that will be worth chasing another 10 years from now.
This post originally appeared on BarefootBeachBlonde.com, the pre-evolved version of Maps And Mandalas. I’ve republished it here with its original date because I love it that much.