Waking in darkness, the time of day some call the “hour of the wolf”– that time of legend when babies are born and people depart this world — my body programed to an east coast clock, I seized the gift of time offered before my scheduled meeting, and headed to the beach, or more accurately–the cliffs. I went looking for the spot that I loved to visit when I was a student in the university located up the hill above town. I wanted to watch the seals in the bay as I had some decades before. Wondering, I drove, would I find the spot? Would the seals be there diving for food? Would the road and turn-out still exist or would it have crumbled into the sea? Navigating within the darkness just as dawn was breaking, I found them– the turn-out, the surfers, the ice plant banks in flower, and the sun rise lighting the water just as I remembered. The landscape didn’t seem to have changed. I know it must have, but not that I could see. I was always a casual visitor arriving when transportation and free time coincided to provide the opportunity. There again after so many years I realised that the soft colors of the new day in this landscape–now ones renewed in memory– influences the color palette I use as a designer and artist to this day.