Will I ever tire of the sunrise?
Sometimes I think, “enough.” But no, I grab the camera, capture the light. There is always something different. Clouds shifted, glassy seas or wind swept, the sky a range of color fields.
In the stillness, the air gathers in on itself and slowly exhales in rhythm with the sea. It is a song that musicians cannote capture, no matter the longing.
The gathering of seabirds, in search of their first meal. The flap of wings, the throaty call of the heron, the high pitched whistle of the tern. The splash of fish, slap of wave, rustle of palm branches.
In the distance, a rooster reminds his brood that it is once again day. Dogs echo and their woofs and howls call to one another, an ancient language replayed in the debut of another dawn.