The dawn light crept over the far bank of the Swan River like the terminus. Black in front, grey behind, just changing the quality of the light. Dominique, my girlfriend for that term at Uni, and I were still dressed in our formals; Dominique in a lime ball gown, and I in a dinner suit with black tie. The grassy slope we sat on was dewy.
The grey light rolled down like a curtain in reverse and hit the bank - a memory bank for me. Over there, I had ridden my cycle to my Uncle and Aunt's. As a young teenager, Humphrey Leach and I explored the undergorund pipes under the causeway and discovered a little secluded beach where we could see the city and smoke: both climbing and smoking dangeous activities.
The light suddently hit the water of the Swan, and it glowed silver. It seemed to light the whole city. Colour started to creep into the houses, the roads, the trees. Grey turned to tthe red clay of tiles, to the green of eucalypts, and the hum of dawn traffic seemd to become louder.
The city was being born again to a new day of life; and we were happy. We had been awake 24 hours, and we had watched in the dawn.
Life is complete.
In the warmth of the sun, we began to relax and start thr day.