The eager dawn sun licks yellow on the welcoming cliff face. The beach waits patiently for its first time-tabled swim of the day.
In the comfortable hotel, guests doze, dreaming happily in sundry foreign languages while yet sleepy waiters lay out meats and cheeses and freshly-baked breads.
A zephyr breathes its salty, sea-weedy journey around the headland carrying a promise of blue skies and mid-morning ice-cream cones.
The deck-chair attendant stirs his early morning cuppa, milk, one sugar.
Gulls, the reconnaissance party, mew overhead, scour the area for titbits from yesterday’s tides.
My camera clicks, assures me I am content.
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ weekly 100 word Friday Fictioneer challenge. Click here to find more.