the travelling light

Magnesium combusting with air: that brilliant reaction is how the sun combusts on the ruffled surface of the sea in the harbour. The water moves a-shimmer. Fishermen and fishergrannies try their luck in the dazzle. For there are shoals of silver fish catching this light also, more shifting magnesium oxide on the make.
From the sky comes a thin rasping cheep cheep creeou cheep cheep creeou as black skull-capped terns search the harbour for this giveaway flash of fish. Suddenly, out of the blue, folding their sharp scalloped wings and tail feathers they drop plumb down into the water. Another; another and there is another: splash, splosh, splash.
Beneath the boardwalk are feral cats sprawling on the hot rocks, taking the shade of the walkway passing overhead. They are tended and fed by a Feline Protector, who has a hi-viz bib and everything. The cats are lean and prowl around like their larger cousins. A cougar, cheetah; a puma watching me pass, a group of leopards around a food tray. One is at the water edge where fat fish wallow, its eyes are expectant, waiting with a paw half raised, but it will soon recognise the futility and head back to the biscuits from its Protector.
All this and I am not even ten minutes arrived. I am still to ascend the stairs and meet the cloud of swifts arcing parabolas, the squabbling brilliant-green parakeets filleting palm-leafs for their nests. For now though, I stop and take a drink of water as another tern falls from the sky. I am here in the shadow of the boardwalk, the light is up there waiting for me. I put away the water and put on my shades. On, with my morning walk.