The early hours

[Greyfox]

Over Easter we stayed at a holiday cottage at Milsons Passage (Hawkesbury River). I had a couple of days when I got up early while the Princess was still sleeping and took off in the boat, found a nice spot on the river, which is not hard to do, anchored up, put out the burley pot and lines, and made a cuppa from the thermos and had a sandwich. I just sat there enjoying the mill pond water, the quietness and stillness all around me and just enjoyed the conversion from dark to first light.

This would have to be the best time of the day, the time before the noise of the day starts. Once the first rays of the day change into morning, it becomes a different world. The breeze picks up, the water is not as still, bird songs fill the air, noise from other boats can be heard.

But for me it is that conversion time that I like the most. How lucky are we if you have a boat and access to our beautiful waterways, we can enjoy the stillness of the day and just let our minds drift away with the serinity around us.

[bluefin]

Absolute best time of day. I waiting for it now! Early morning fish planed, cant sleep!!

[big Neil]

I read you loud and clear Greyfox. Absolutely MY best time to be down the river...when the shadows play tricks on the water's surface and the silence is only broken by an occasional fish jumping. How lucky we are mate.

[Blackfish]

Totally agree. When I was younger I spent a bit of time up that way and camp by the river. Often in those early morning times the fog would slowly descend through the She Oaks and envelope us.

James Lister Cuthbertsons Poem summed it up best.

The Morning Star paled slowly, the Cross hung low to the sea,

And down the shadowy reaches the tide came swirling free,

The lustrous purple blackness of the soft Australian night,

Waned in the grey awakening that heralded the light;
Still in the dying darkness, still in the forest dim
The pearly dew of the dawning clung to each giant limb,
Till the sun came up from ocean, red with the cold sea mist,
And smote on the limestone ridges, and the shining tree-tops kissed;
Then the fiery Scorpion vanished, the magpie's note was heard,
And the wind in the she-oak wavered, and the honeysuckles stirred,
The airy golden vapour rose from the river breast,
The kingfisher came darting out of his crannied nest,
And the bulrushes and reed-beds put off their sallow grey
And burnt with cloudy crimson at dawning of the day.

[mrsswordfisherman]

Totally agree. When I was younger I spent a bit of time up that way and camp by the river. Often in those early morning times the fog would slowly descend through the She Oaks and envelope us.

James Lister Cuthbertsons Poem summed it up best.

The Morning Star paled slowly, the Cross hung low to the sea,

And down the shadowy reaches the tide came swirling free,

The lustrous purple blackness of the soft Australian night,

Waned in the grey awakening that heralded the light;

Still in the dying darkness, still in the forest dim

The pearly dew of the dawning clung to each giant limb,

Till the sun came up from ocean, red with the cold sea mist,

And smote on the limestone ridges, and the shining tree-tops kissed;

Then the fiery Scorpion vanished, the magpie's note was heard,

And the wind in the she-oak wavered, and the honeysuckles stirred,

The airy golden vapour rose from the river breast,

The kingfisher came darting out of his crannied nest,

And the bulrushes and reed-beds put off their sallow grey

And burnt with cloudy crimson at dawning of the day.

Lovely poem Blackfish

[fishy]

It's my favourite time of day. As tradie, I guess I see around 250 sunrises a year. Then on my days off I get up earlier to go fishing ?!

[Cargo05]

Being a retired dairyfarmer I have seen a few early mornings. It is a great time of the day.