Dawn like a bell shaped flower rose colored by the rising sun divests itself of night’s dark globe which rolls away to reveal the dewy, chattering, stirring horizon of a fragrant new day
On a sand dune close by the ocean’s incessant waking pulse candles of the night – pale yellow flowers unfold from nocturnal shy slumber rub eyes with quivering stamens and watch, as a column of patient ants returns home from its route march forage bearing tiny fragments of white vegetation upwards like flags and a quiet crab scuttles sideways towards his own world in the sand
And from an untidy sleeping bag zipped open and spread out a pair of woolen and mohair bodies disentwine, crouch, brush teeth with water from a leather bottle prepare coffee under a tree drive off and leave me, my bicycle and the camera in my eyes to roam on into an album of a day
