I woke up early this morning and slipped outside to the balcony to watch the sun rise. It was still chilly and dampish and my knit zip-front jacket felt good.
As I sipped my coffee (made super strong to suit my BIL; I trick it out with liberal amounts of half and half and sugar), I could hear the deep, rather mournful sound of the foghorn in the distance. The exterior lights lining the board walks to the beach still glowed.
I think it’s going to be another beautiful day in this little taste of paradise.
And speaking of paradise . . .