It's hard to tell if their days are beginning or their nights have just given away to the day.
Darting between and around them are runners lost in their own universe pumped through ear buds singing songs of encouragement.City workers blow trash from the sidewalks onto Butler Avenue where a giant truck brushes all manner of pollution inside.
A line of police cars are parked in front of "Sunrise."
Discarded bicycles lay everywhere.
Couples sleep in cars or huddle together on the beach.
Early morning fishermen race photographers to the ocean's edge as the water begins to bubble the birth of today's sun.
Bras, panties, boxer shorts and other articles of clothing vie with cigarette butts littering the high water mark.
A haphazard line's already formed outside "The Breakfast Club" with people intently smashing their faces against the large windows in disbelief that it's not open yet.
As the sun rises, ocean waves break into song, choirs of birds join in, the photographers capture the glory on film while others desperately search for sunglasses.
Returning to our quiet home, I check on Sarah whose had to get up to let the dogs out but is now trying to conquer sleep again.
Giving her a kiss, I shut the bedroom door and lead the dogs outside to the Beloved Back Deck, drink Perrier, pee off the side and plop down for morning prayers.
The rising sun rest in the branches of the Palm Tree with the oyster face, coconut bra and grass skirt so I rise to search for my sunglasses when Cassidy, Sarah's 7 year old, sleepily greets me, air askew, holding her pink blanket wanting me to pick her up.
The dogs go crazy with excitement, tails wagging and moans of delight and I tell them to "Shut Up" but their love will not be confined.
Throwing Cass on the sofa, I cover her with a blanket and hand her Sarah's I-Pad which will be another half hour of quiet time so I return to morning prayers.
Another Island morning has begun.
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