"The sea is as near as we come to another world." Anne Stevenson
The anglers plied their trade ferociously, thrashing at the water for breakfast. Around them Ft. Myers Beach awoke, the sounds of civilization - trash trucks and delivery semis - juxtaposed. One foot waves broke boldly along the shore, spending themselves as a dribble on the wet sand. The fishing continued, gulls and pelicans gulping tiny silver fish after each dive.
To the east scant purple clouds turned orange and then a bright yellow. Sunrise.
My phone sat back at the condo, so the only place I could record a new day along the Gulf was in my soul.
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