Every Morning I walked or ran on the beach.
Every morning was different. Sometimes the sunset was pink, other times bright red.
Sometimes there was no sunset, and one morning it drizzled rain and sprinkled my face with sharp drops.
Every morning the sand was scattered with footprints of running shoes, as joggers ran along the waters edge.
One morning there was a fisherman on the beach.
Another morning there were birds pecking at fish tails possibly thrown overboard by an unseen boat.
Mostly the mornings had only a few people, and only they saw the beauty of the early sunrise, and the rising of the sun.
Many people smiled or said hello as they walked or ran past.
The morning was very beautiful... almost alone, with nature waking up and throwing off the coverlets of the night, as she stretched forward her fingers of welcome to the Day she brought to the World
"Good morning", I say again as I jog past another runner, 'Good Morning to You"
And I smiled