The maintenance vehicle inches by in the semi-darkness, smoothing the shifting sand under it. The gray sky grows brighter in slow motion. A line of light appears between two closely packed clouds.
That must be the Crack of Dawn. Being a congenital night person, I don’t know much about this phenomenon. The only thing that could possibly get me up this early is the beach. Watching it wake up in a new experience for me.
The tide is high but receding. It leaves stuff on the shore that it’s not coming back to pick up. The water is a clean, clear aquamarine. Now I know what sea-green looks like. One shade of it anyway.
No surfers, no runners, no cyclers, no skaters. Not even the seagulls are out and about yet. Surely the happy little clams are around.
“Are you there, guys?” I ask.
“Zzzzz….,” comes the reply.
Oh well. Guess I’m on my own today.
Moving on towards the pier, I can hear the gulls calling out to each other across the water. Minutes later, they appear on the beach. A large male silently commands a flock of females. A couple of pigeons are here too, but the gulls don’t want anything to do with them.
“Clique-ish bunch, aren’t you,” I comment.
Two more females fly in from the west, over the water. I hear them talking among themselves.
“How was your flight, dahling?”
“Lovely. Simply lovely.”
They don’t discuss their point of departure, so I don’t know where they came from.
On my way back, I see what I think are whales, but it’s time for me to head out for work now, so I’ll tell you about that next time.
Lynn Fountain Campbell