Dawn came over Anastasia Island with full force this morning; there were no clouds obstructing the first beams to skirt the surf and crash into the oaks and magnolias and scattered palm and pines. The temperature was below 40° making for clear skies, first filled with stars, soon dimming and the space between them growing from black to grey to blue to sun filled.
Traffic through the neighborhoods moved slow, if there are cars at all in the early hours. Routines are changed by weekend and holiday schedules and are reflected in the traffic. Or the lack of traffic.
Traffic grows heavier through the town’s center and along the Bayfront as the sun creeps higher. Turistas stir and regain consciousness of schedules and timetables. They either rush to check out and move on or they rush to partake of the obligations of visiting a national treasure, historic site, the Nation’s Oldest City. They walk and gawk, reach out to touch and pause to photo. They stop to eat and look at watches and decide the past is just that and in just two hours they could be standing at the doorsteps of The Kingdom or crossing over the threshold of The World. They grab shopping bags and head for the parking lot.