Morningsong

What must it have been like, to be present at the dawn of the world... Every morning I get to put up the flag. Its one of those honorary chores I've gained by default. My quarters are closest to the flagpole, and its a well known fact round here that I'm a light sleeper who likes to see the sunrise. Sunrise from the top of the fort is beautiful, and infinitely variable. This time of the year, I've actually only seen the sun rise twice. Every morning I dash upstairs, and look east over Bush Key. Low masses of clouds obscure the horizon. In the pre-dawn, they're gray, and purple, and shades of lavender and amethyst, and the sea is dark blue green. There's a moment when it feels like the world is holding its breath, then the clouds lighten, with shades of warm apricot, and peach, and the sky turns palest turquoise. The frigate birds nesting on Long Key rise like a cloud of smoke in the updraft. I try to get the flag up just as the sun rises; we tell our visitors the fort is open any time the flag is flying. There's a momentary feeling of "Welcome to my home, I hope you'll love it as much as I do", and then I'm lost in the beauty of the morning. This was one of the sunrise mornings. The sun was a hot tangerine orb rising out of a turquoise sea into a sky filled with charcoal clouds. Storm on the way!