In Shantou, the must-see Lonely Tree on Nan'ao Island offers stunning sunrise views

## Dawn Chronicles of Nan'ao Island The sea breeze at 4 AM feels like cool silk brushing against my face. I ride an electric scooter along the winding island road, my headlights cutting two trembling beams through the thick fog. The navigation shows 3 kilometers to the "internet-famous tree," but Nan'ao Island in darkness has lost all its social media charm, leaving only the muffled sound of waves hitting the shore and occasional seabird cries. The Casuarina tree known as the "Lonely Tree" isn't actually lonely - seven or eight of its kind stand within fifty meters. They've just humbly stepped back, letting their companion nearest to the viewing platform play the "lonely" role. When I stumble through the bushes, three to five photography enthusiasts are already crouching on the rocks beneath the tree, their tripods standing like steel reeds, camera screens glowing blue in the darkness. The tide is receding, revealing black rocks smoothed by the sea. I follow the seasoned photographers' lead and find a slightly elevated rock to sit on. My phone's weather app shows sunrise at 5:42, but the eastern horizon remains sealed by leaden clouds without a hint of dawn. A college student from Guangzhou starts complaining quietly about his previous failed attempt due to clouds, despite checking for clear weather this time. At 5:17, a miracle occurs. The impenetrable clouds suddenly split as if torn by invisible hands, with dark cyan light pouring down like liquid. The famous tree instantly gains silver edges, its twisted branches revealing incredible vitality in the morning light - a dynamic beauty no social media photo has captured: while sea winds violently shake its branches, it grips the rocks firmly with its roots, as if wrestling with the entire ocean. When the first ray of sunlight pierces through the clouds, everyone holds their breath simultaneously. The complaining college student suddenly tears up, later telling me it reminded him of his deceased grandmother - "like something you thought was lost forever returning in a different form." Sunlight shatters into countless gold flakes on the wave crests, while the tree casts a slender shadow in the dawn light, its tip pointing right at my feet like some mysterious claiming ceremony. As the sun fully emerges from the sea, several girls in floral dresses suddenly enter the frame. They take turns posing under the tree, and one's scarf gets caught by the sea wind, floating like a colorful butterfly toward the distant lighthouse. Professional photographers start packing their gear, having captured their perfect "lonely" shots, while the actual tree is now surrounded by tourists taking photos. I finish my egg yolk pastry sitting on the rocks, the crumbs attracting some bold seabirds. The tree returns to its ordinary appearance in the morning light, with an awakening fishing village behind it, drying nets swaying gently in the wind. At that moment, I suddenly understand: true loneliness never needs an audience, and this tree is destined to forever play the role people imagine it to be. Just like the perfect sunrise photos in my phone now, which will never reveal the mosquito bites on my legs or the bone-chilling sea breeze that found its way inside my collar.