A Town in Hush
The afternoon before Good Friday is different in Eden.
You can feel it in the air—warm, still, expectant. The breeze has paused. Boats rock gently at anchor. The usual rhythm of the town softens into a breath between chapters.
It was just after 4pm on Thursday, 17 April 2025, and I found myself above Cannery Wharf, watching it all from above. The sea, the sky, the shoreline—they weren’t doing anything special. And yet, everything felt luminous.
Snug Cove in 360°
From this height, the whole bay stretches out like an open hand. The VR360 image captures that exact stillness—a full circle of quiet around Snug Cove and Twofold Bay.
No wind. No rush. Just light drifting across the water like it had all the time in the world.
Two Horizons, Two Stories
I took two 180° panoramas, framing the contrast of this golden hour.
Looking south-east, Snug Cove and Eden’s Wharf curl into the bay, the town resting low and calm beneath a glowing sky.
Facing north-west, the sun begins its slow descent. Thompsons Point Ocean Pool glistens on the rock ledge below, while the rooftops above glow soft and amber. On the horizon, if you look carefully, there’s a faint line of smoke drifting from a hazard reduction burn in the Nullica State Forest—barely visible, distant, not intruding.
This wasn’t a dramatic scene. It was a quiet one. But that’s exactly what made it feel so sacred.
A Song to Match the Moment
As the drone circled above, the soundtrack unfolded naturally: Eden Still Before the Tide.
Written to reflect what was here—what was not yet here—the song is a warm, blues-tinged ballad full of soft guitar, saxophone, and soul. It plays beneath the drone footage like a memory being remembered in real-time.
Let it play. Let the images roll. Let the stillness tell its story.
Lyrics – Eden Still Before the Tide
Late afternoon, the light comes low
Paintin’ rooftops in a golden glow
Boats at anchor, not a sound
Eden’s breathin’ soft and slow
Gum trees swayin’ up on the hill
Sea’s a mirror, the air is still
No cars, no calls, no signs of rush
Just the world before the hush is crushed
Still before the tide rolls in
Still before the crowd begins
Just me and the sea and the fading light
This town glows in the edge of night
Ohh...
Still before the tide
Still before the tide
Cannery Wharf wrapped in peace
Even the pelicans pause to breathe
Ocean pool carved in time and stone
A quiet place that feels like home
Way off north, a hint of haze
Smoke ridin’ light across the bays
But it don’t reach us here below
Where everything feels dipped in gold
Still before the tide rolls in
Still before the Easter wind
Just the gulls and the breeze and the painted sky
Just Eden hummin’ her lullaby
Ohh...
Still before the tide
Still before the tide
Tomorrow they'll come — the vans, the cars
Laughter pourin’ from the holiday stars
But tonight, it’s mine — this pause, this grace
The calm before the warm embrace
Still before the tide rolls in
Still before the crowd begins
Hearts wide open, doors still closed
A coastal town in a sacred hold
Ohh...
Still before the tide...
Still before the tide
Eden Between Moments
Tomorrow, the Easter energy will arrive—vans pulling in, holidaymakers pouring out. But on this afternoon, just before it all begins, Eden whispered her quieter truth.
A coastal town caught in golden light.
Still.
Whole.
And completely alive.
