Sunday 31 / May / 2026
It was my intention not to be beaten by the first paleness of the morning. I crept out of the bed carefully not to disturb my better half and left the bedroom. The stars were fast fading as I walked out to take a deep breath of fresh air.
I decided not to take the car but walked the half-kilometre to the beach. My mission was simple that morning. There were too many scraps of information that I needed to flush out from my memory residing deep in the abyss of my mind. I took a holiday, but I was not refreshed, perhaps the trip abroad was more ceremonious than self-healing. That morning, taking a walk in a familiar street but at an unfamiliar time was therapeutic. It felt like I was walking backward just happy to let my world abandon me. The stillness of the dawn was eerie and I took slow and soft steps. I was almost tiptoeing, careful not to upset the laws of nature.
I was attentive, almost hearing the tiniest sound coming from every direction. I heard the rustle in the shrub, the flying bee, the flapping of the wings and even the old cat purring away lazily under a rubbish bin. The streets, that early in the morning, belonged to no human. It belonged to creatures that humans don’t notice in the waking hours. I was trespassing their world and I knew that I should do so on their terms. When I was passing a 24-hour petrol station, the lone attendant was sleeping on a steel chair, oblivious to his surroundings. There were birds feeding on biscuit crumbs just yards away from his dangling hands.
The road was deserted and I was tempted to lie on the tarmac just to satisfy an urge of doing something daring. Instead, I followed the crimson halo over the horizon that signalled the rising sun. The stars were gone and the moon was struggling to keep its shine. The tide was receding to reveal a large patch of white sands. As I was stepping on the beach, crabs were scurrying away after the retreating tide.
Half of them would not make it because seagulls made a meal out of them before they touched the water. It was a cruel act but the irony was that the practice was executed at the nicest time of the day. When the sun finally poked its head from the distant horizon, I was ready to take a rest on the embankment. The redness filled the seawater and the waves danced, rejoicing at a new day. The first human sound, apart from my own breathing, originated from the engine of a boat. It was a tiny speck gracing the edge of the horizon as fishermen came back with the catch of the night. When they reached the beach, a cloud of seagulls circled the boat.
The crabs were only an appetizer. They were generous fishermen. They shared the catch by offering the mackerel to their flying friends while they went home with the heavier fish. As the sun was warming the sky, the morning was reclaimed by humans once gain. The rush of the cars and the noise of the waking children filled the air. I walked back the same route but it was totally unrecognisable. The light of the day got rid of the shadows. The creatures of the dark, having relinquishing control, disappeared. I am not sure whether the experience cleaned out all unwanted clutter in my mind but I was ready to face another challenge with renewed passion. Until, of course, the next time round.
