Its dark, but the morning will soon peek its head over the mountains in the distance, where a purple glow hints at the brilliance to come. My headphones are on, and I listen to slow-dub, but between the deep sounds there are spaces, filled with the tweeting of birds, flying overhead in pairs. I am not alone, across the gravel sits a man, who I later find out suffers from insomnia. He smokes a cigarette, and next to him, there is a sad plastic bag filled with a half-empty packet of salted nuts and one lonely beer. I close my eyes, and move a little to the beat. My legs are crossed, and I breathe deep, filling my lungs with the crisp morning air. My body tingles, a reminder of the night that has passed – a reminder of the frenetic energy shared between dancing bodies. I sit on a large stone, the highest stone of many, piled high above the city. My skin glows golden, and I open my eyes to see an indescribable beauty.