Dawn : Day 140 : Sea of Cortez

It’s hot. Spring has flashed to summer with the turn of a switch.

Dawn comes with still seas and air that carries the heavy scent of salted water.

From my writing perch, I watch orioles dash palm to palm, nipping at dried fronds for nesting materials. Small hummingbirds lap at red flowers, doves coo from the neighbor’s rooftop, and house wrens flitter between plantings and small trees.

A wondrous way to wake ….

Beach walkers – with and without dogs, ply the beach. A few youngsters hurry past on their morning run. Buster begs me to stop writing and take him on an adventure.

In the distance, the tinkle of the bottled water delivery man’s truck. It reminds me of the bells on the ice cream man’s truck when I was a small child in Long Beach, CA.

Behind the sweet tinkle is the loudspeaker of the day’s political broadcastings. A sedan of undetermined color circles the hood, a speaker mounted to the roof of his car, with a taped recording blaring into the otherwise quiet space. While my Spanish isn’t perfect, there is something about the tinniness and the volume of the speaker that renders the advertisement unintelligible. I grasp it’s for one or other of the candidates vying for votes in this year’s election.

Quiet already disturbed, trucks laden with soil to fill a neighborhood lot arrive, followed by a large bulldozer that begins to spread the earth.

Time for another cup of coffee – and put the day in order.