The silent night hung over the ocean. The waves had not woken yet. Only the light of the moon reflected as a streak in the water distinguished where the sea ended and where the sky began. A single seagull scavenged the beach for any crustacean or other tidbit on which she could feed while her flock flew off over the ocean to prepare for the day. She let out squawks and caws of frustration when her work yielded no results.
Meanwhile the sun had only just begun to peek over the horizon, letting its rays slip coyly over the vast ocean. By the meagre light of dawn, the black silhouette could be seen approaching from further down the beach. At first, its features were indistinguishable. As it neared, however, the figure began to take shape. He was an old black man. His outline became visible: he was short, somewhat stooped over, and his figure was almost off-balance from his large middle and feeble legs. Every step jostled him to the side of his bad leg. Nevertheless, his slow progress across the beach brought him steadily into view. His eyes were red and half-shut with an inevitable exhaustion. He kept his beard chest-length and tied into two points at the end. The sand that now covered his shoes hid the dirt and tear that had already marred their appearance. He came up to where the seagull searched the beach for nourishment. Coming out of his daze for a minute and seeing the bird’s predicament, he reached into his pocket for the thin slice of bread he had managed to find somewhere. With hands shaking from old age and a smile lighting up his wrinkled face, he threw the bread on the ground in front of him. The seagull hopped and took the bread in her beak. Her beady black eyes stared at him for a second as if momentarily confused. The man’s stomach groaned as he returned her gaze. Her reflection seemed to shimmer in his eyes. Then she took off across the ocean towards and flew into the soft yellow sky that now gave the black horizon a defined end, replacing the seamless transition of water to night sky.
As he walked on and the sun climbed in the sky, a few people started to set their towels and blankets down on the beach and enjoy the summer day. Among them was a young mother holding her child, a backpack, and a bag. The little girl in her arms reminded the man of a little girl he had held. He looked longingly up at the sky for a moment, hoping to find her there. When he next looked down it was because a small body had bumped up against his leg. The little girl had collided with him and was now righting herself with the use of his pant leg. She looked up at him. His eyes lit up and a smile stretched across his face. The girl’s face mimicked his, revealing that she was missing her two front teeth. The mother rushed over, apologizing. The old man said nothing, but looked gratefully at the woman in front of him, then glanced back at her daughter, giving her a fatherly pat on the head.
As the sun passed zenith the old man continued to make his way down the beach as if driven by something. A familiar child’s face occupied his mind. Then, thoughts of the little girl he had just seen passed through his mind. So much life lived in her soft, promising eyes, so much vitality in her smile. Her unmarked face had sparked something in him and yet ate at his heart in something like regret.
He was now passing by people whom he didn’t know and who didn’t know him, but the crowd grew sparse and soon the man was a lone figure on the beach again. As the shadows grew longer, the old man became a smaller and smaller silhouette on the horizon. The sun began to set, filling the sky with rich shades of red and purple that contrasted nicely with the ever darkening sea. The man’s breathing was hard from the exertion of walking now. His exhausted silhouette shrank into the horizon, more steady as the distance greatened and his movements ebbed away. The waves’ gentle but steady crashes, like the ticking of a clock, or the beating of a heart, softened as the world began to sleep and the sunset faded into nothing more than a shimmering halo at the earth’s border. The man’s breathing was light and slow, barely audible over even the the now gentle back and forth of water on the sand. The ocean and sky came together once more as the waves fell asleep for the night. Only the slightest beating of the water on nearby rocks and trickle of water moving back to the sea could be heard. The peaceful breeze that had once driven the waves now died out.
***
The first sound to wake the sun was the soft chirping of hatchlings wiggling out of their shells. The sun rose silently and slowly, lighting the heavens, empty but for the remaining wisp of the moon and the few vestiges of the mass of stars. The few clouds that lingered in the sky appeared golden from the sun’s first rays, giving life to the skies again. No man walked the beach this morning. It was vacant except for a seagull and her young as they searched for food, waves washing what the baby gulls could have eaten from the shore, the shore which lay sleeping under the soft, promising glow of the sunrise.
