Photo by Igor Starkov on Unsplash

I sat at the small table covered with formica and gazed out towards the beach at the gray sea. The fog had settled over the morning and the waves had created a contained wonderland of mist and wind. The waves rose and crashed, spewing white foam across the breaks. The air was fresh and full of life that had sprung from the infinite sea. It was cold and it felt good to sit in a sleeveless shirt and let the wind cool my arms that were always hot. Hot from the dizziness of always moving. Moving with the work of life and everything that one was required to do. It was a lot of beauty to behold in one morning, a morning that was a Tuesday and would later be filled with work. This was the perfect start to any day.

Photo by Kym Ellis on Unsplash

I looked down at my bagel and slathered it with white cream cheese and grape jelly and took a bite. As I munched, I listened to the conversation that floated over from the neighboring table. A little girl, with bright red pigtails danced around her family, still in her pink pajamas, looking just like mother. He mother called to her to come back and sit at the table. I looked at her and smiled and she smiled back at me. I wondered if it was the beach, the water, the fog, that inspired her to dance and twirl. To smile at the world. Or maybe she was just happy to be on vacation with her family.

People were up early and taking in the sea air. It was a different crowd from the night before. The night had been filled with tattooed characters approaching us, hyping paraphernalia and schemes. This crowd was fresh and calm. They were here for nature’s entertainment and nothing man-made. They were here for the spectacular view of the sea and sitting close enough to it, that it’s mist enveloped you.

Photo by frank mckenna on Unsplash

I noticed that my bagel was almost gone. Time had passed, so I gulped down my tea and moved on to the next part of the day. I moved on, fortified with memories of the beautiful morning.