The sounds of skylarks and curlews break the stillness of the morning The sensory architect already at work A fading moon compromises giving way to the sun dawning
Mist suspended over water waiting for warmth to dissipate The rocks are bathed clean Gulls squawking in salty air A traveling east wind invigorates
On a white capped speckled sea Fisher boats already far from view Night time now held to ransom for the day is center stage adorned in its morning hue
