It’s Wednesday. The first Wednesday of the rest of my life. The air is chill, as a song that eases you away from the lull of summer. Birds flap their wings and go da..da..a.a.a.a in harmony against the still, patient blue water. A gull cuts across the blue into the peach and lemon squeezed sky. 

We almost forgot that the sun, the queen, was about to arrive on her clear golden chariot. The birds flapped and squacked in gleeful readiness. 

Make way! make way! She’s coming! A world in waiting for the star. Any minute now you’ll see her majestic rays rise. And she’ll take the floor. The day is hers. Will it happen? Oh! It must! 

C/mon O’ Sun, you can do it, of course you don’t need me to tell you that tho.

They leered and cheered and coaxed and cooed. Joyful and without a moral care. Oh to be a bird. Swooping and diving. Plunging and plummeting into the endless gleeful sea of summers and suns and quiet and nights and moons. 

Gulls dropped shells from great heights — trying to make some breakfast.

My musings and longings seemed to bear no heed at all in front of the vast play of the Earth.

All I can do is watch it unfold. Watching and waiting and breathing in the thin morning air. 

My thoughts became fainter, less menacing and more in touch, whispering and echoing and bouncing softly with the whirling winds. 

The birds fly out to where the sun has its glow — slow and steady always wins. And now, at last! She is here. Rising at great speeds, confident in her glow, up, up, never straying too far away. It’s a new day. The birds dance and sing. 

It’s warm! Warm again!

O’ happy day. 

I try not to look her way.

The sandcastle stand in little mounds in the distance. The tide is low and the morning is fresh.

Cars zoomed by on Revere Beach Boulevard as usual. Business as usual. 

But everything felt new to me. 

Everything extraordinary. 

Every breath, different from the rest.