My Morning Walk

When the tide is right, I leave home a little earlier, riding my bicycle to the beach to collect bycatch for the cat food. I lean the bike against a fence and head down to the shore. Before the boats begin to come in, I take a brisk walk around to the end of the beach and back, bare feet in the sand, small waves splashing at my ankles, sun on my face. Overhead, Magnificent Frigate birds fly in circles, swooping down every so often to pick up a scrap of fish from the beach. On the water, Brown Pelicans hang out in a gang, anticipating the dump of bycatch from the fishing boats. There are often Blue-footed Boobies circling and diving in the bay for their breakfast. On the beach, sandpipers run along the water’s edge, hunting small crustaceans. Seagulls perch high on the electric cable that runs the length of the beach, unusually silent. Apart from the busyness of the birds, the beach is quiet.

The air is crisp and fresh, slightly salty. A light breeze plays with my hair as I walk. Two dogs run out from a nearby house, playing tag and chasing each other into the breakers. They stop mid-game to greet me, so I scratch their ears for a minute and tell them how handsome they are before continuing on my way. The aroma of frying fish wafts past my nostrils, it’s the breakfast of champions being prepared in one of the small wooden cabins that line the beachfront. I follow the footprints of the early birds who walked before me, around the curve of the sand to the end of the beach. Above the treeline, there’s a path that leads to the cemetery. At the end of the path, a huge tree sits precariously on a large rock, saved from falling into the sea only by the boulder’s presence.

At this point, I turn to retrace my steps. It’s still quiet at this end of the beach, but there is activity at the other end. More people are heading down the beach for their morning walks with their children, dogs, friends, or all three. A couple of keen surfers with boards tucked under their arms jog along the waterline. The walk back to the fishing boats is much busier. I greet friends as they pass on their walks. Their dogs receive scratches and belly rubs. I play with the children for a moment. People stream down the beach to help push the arriving boats up onto the dry sand where they will clean the nets. At the boats, I pick up the cat food, trying to fill the bucket as much as I can, and then walk back to where I parked my bicycle for the ride home. Lungs filled with fresh air, legs stretched, mind calmed, I’m ready to start my day…