Purple light is creeping through the gap in the curtain, slowly edging closer to the leg lain on top of bed sheets. It’s the sign for me to begin crawling out of my night-time hideaway and head to the beach before the ranger rises. I  make my way to my regular spot, sure to secure a position for the remainder of the day. I was the first there. I watch as one by one the vans, troopies and busses arrive all with a similar goal in mind. To do absolutely nothing except enjoy the landscape.

As the morning rolls on, yoga mats are rolled out, and tailgates are opened as travellers prepare to breakfast. The wind is light this morning, barely noticeable were it not for the slight sway in the grass bushes that hold the dune together. The ocean is a soft blue, and calm, for now. My coffee is on the boil, and I change into my swimsuit for my morning bathe. My coffee is poured, and because I drink it black, I capitalise on the cooling down period with my first swim for the day.

I return to my deck chair recliner, positioned to face directly toward the ocean. The sun is rising behind me, so I remain somewhat shaded yet still warmed by its presence. Sipping my coffee, I notice an odd shape seemingly bobbing its head in the waves. A small head at that, coming up for little breaths, a green turtle. I have an urge to get my phone and snap the picture, but instead, I sit and watch. Another urge to run and grab my snorkel and mask, but instead I sit and watch. Another urge to make more of this moment somehow, but instead, I sit and watch. Me and the rest of the parking lot posse, sitting and watching as we slowly transition our minds from the dreamtime of the night to the reality of the day. In this moment, the difference is not so obvious.