The alarm jolted me awake at 0300 hrs. Bleary-eyed, I navigated the dark, winding lanes of North Norfolk, my resolve sharp despite the hour. Cley Next the Sea awaited, shrouded in dawn mist, the air thick with salt and brine. I could taste the anticipation on my tongue.

The moment of truth arrived. My drone soared into the gray sky, but suddenly, disaster struck—signal lost! My heart pounded as I fought to regain control, the bitter taste of failure threatening to choke me. Then, a miracle—the connection flickered back just in time. The camera clicked.

As the sun rose, the image appeared—a breathtaking shot of Cley like never before. The ancient windmill stood proud against the marshlands, bathed in golden light. The scent of wet earth filled the air, mingling with the sweet smell of success. I’d done it. The exhaustion melted away, replaced by pride. My family would be amazed. The early start was more than worth it; it was a dream fulfilled.