Morning in Paternoster, at the Cape Columbine Reserve.
...and the night terrors receded.
Vince unzipped the tent and came to bed when the sky and sea had turned opalescent, sometime before 5am. He was cold, his hands freezing. We had not equipped ourselves for night watches in the Cape mist. He snuggled up, covered in both sleeping bags. And I was wide awake.
So I decided to assume the dangerous dawn sentry duty.
The mist had lifted and the sea had cleared to its cobalt blues again. The tide was far out and the rocks in our bay exposed in frilly capes of weed. I poked about.
I found many sea urchins quite undamaged. Rare for this coast.
Pink limpit shells...
And many snails.
I lit the Cadac burner, the gas roar loud in the still morning.
And looked into the pot to see one of the most welcome coffee sights ever. The new day had begun.
While I sat in a camping chair sipping coffee feathered friends hopped about the campsite begging for crumbs of last night's bread..
And some bossy kelp gulls investigated the night's dishes to see if there was any crayfish left. I gave them some legs and crunchy bits.
I took a walk up into the high boulders down a sandy path in the low vegetation and saw a mongoose on his dawn rounds.
I need help with this one, above. It looks like the Tylecodon grandiflorus we saw at Olifantsbos but the succulent stems are so much larger.
Above and below, a small, precisely-thorned aloe growing right in the rock, a few paces from the water. Possibly Aloe distans, based on my googling.
I got back to camp as the last of the mist cleared out, and headed for the coffee pot to start over. In the tent the night guard was stirring, still very sleepy.