Morning on the balcony in Jamaica 

Last night the wind was stiff here on the north side of the island. Whitecaps washed over on themselves, and our hair blew into our eyes and mouths when we turned our heads.

This morning, early, the Caribbean is calm outside our room. I’m on our fourth floor balcony, listening to the soft sigh of wavelets breaking on the sand. I see mounds of coral heads under the blue green water, and further out, a line of waves rolling and breaking: the reef.

Small rowboats straddle the break. Fishermen on the reef. A cruise ship moves silently by in the distance, headed east on the horizon.

I had hoped to sleep in. When I woke, and saw bright sunlight through the curtain, I thought I surely had. It was certain to be 8 at least, or maybe even 10.

5:47.

Due to a one hour time difference, I did sleep an hour later than usual. But I definitely did not sleep in.

Now that I’m out here, listening to waves lapping the beach, I’m glad for the early rise. I’m the only one up, aside from the resort staff and the fishermen a couple hundred meters offshore. The beach is empty. The ring where the fire dancer spin wildly to drums is empty and quiet now. I hear the scratch of a rake on the beach, the scrape of lounge chairs being e clump of rope being dropped in a plastic bucket. Birds chitter and hoo. I smell the sweet green of tropical plants and the clean air of the sea.

Even on vacation, the early morning is my favorite time of day.