It was 3.50am when the alarm chimed.
I grabbed my camera bag and headed out into the emerging morning. The sky was still full of rich purples and velvet blues, but over towards the coast to the East, a rich aurora of muted gold and ruddy pinks were marbling the horizon. The wind farm's blades lay dormant, silhouettes inching nearer with every passing second.
20 minutes later I was there, and I strode out into a rising cacophony of birdsong, heading out to the edge of the land ... bird sanctuary on one side, fishing boats rolling in on the Rother on the other, whilst straight ahead lay the ocean, yawning in the morning's calm.