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Red Light Morning

Up before the sun.  I drive out to Flye Point, walk down to the ocean.  The breeze, bitter, yet refreshing.  The tide, still sleeping, lies quiet.  Moments breathe into water, into gull calls, into blowing sand.  Morning sneaks in then, biting through ocean clouds – red sky leaking through like rain. And suddenly, there’s morning, smiling on Brooklin.

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