I am sitting on the dock
In the early morning
The sun is low in the eastern sky.
I am early.
The club has not yet come alive with other paddlers.
Two white seagulls glide silently overhead
Diving into the still water.
A blue heron nests in an offshore perch,
And the sound of warblers tweeting sweetly comes from grasses along the shoreline.
The hush of the early morning air
Stirs gently through saltgrass,
and the reeds along the shore glisten with the early morning light.
Jamaica Bay is waking.
On a morning such as this
It is easy to forget that this is Brooklyn.
Millions of people live just outside our gate.
On such a morning
The melancholy quiet of the bay
Is a reminder that we are connected
To the rest of the world by the sea.