Cape Byron is the easternmost point of the Australian mainland – a place of striking beauty, where the headland meets the Pacific in sweeping, dramatic views. I’ve been coming here for years, and no matter how many times I visit, the place never loses its magic. There’s something in the air – a quiet energy, a certain vibe – that always lifts me up. It’s one of those rare spots that feels both grounding and expansive at the same time.
Usually, hundreds of people gather here to watch the sunset, especially around the lighthouse. But in May 2020, everything had changed.
Due to the pandemic, Byron Bay was almost completely deserted. The crowds were gone. No tourists, no backpackers – just a handful of locals quietly going about their day. It was strange, almost surreal. I was working in the area for a few weeks, and walking up to the lighthouse became part of my daily rhythm.
On this afternoon, I arrived to find the headland completely empty. Not a single person in sight. The silence was almost cinematic – just the sound of birds and wind moving through the landscape.
Out on the horizon, a storm was building. There was a quiet tension in the air as the storm drew closer. I sat down in the grass and watched as the drama unfolded. Just as the sun reached the horizon, the storm collided with its light – and the entire sky ignited in shades of scarlet and fire. The ocean, the cliffs, the sky – everything glowed. It felt like standing inside a painting.
Then came the rain, the hail, and the thunder – wild and sudden. But for those few minutes, it was just me, the storm, and the most incredible light show I’ve ever seen.
To have that moment, in a place I love so much, completely to myself – it was something I’ll never forget. A once-in-a-lifetime experience that I’ll always carry with me.