The crow of the first rooster.

The rattle of my car on dusty rutted roads.

The wafting scent of baking bread mixed with the salty sea air.

The cry of the osprey, the tern, the small brown hawk.

The swoop of pelican.

The splash of flying fish.

The glow of reds/pinks/oranges/golds as the sun climbs from behind Isla Carmen.

My own coffee sipped slowly as I honor the dawn.

Morning comes round again ……