It is the magic hour. I am on the dock at sunrise. It is the moment when the tide reverses. The marsh is full and the water of Scott Creek is full, the colors of mother of pearl, as smooth as old glass. The early birds are twittering and tweeting, a few cross the pink and blue sky where there is a sliver of a moon
A man named David comes down to catch flounder, but catches a sting ray. I give him a knife to release the creature. He says he saw two falling stars the night of the Cameleopardalids meteor shower. We got up at 3:00 am but saw nothing but the sky strewn with stars. David leaves to fish in the sea at the Edisto 40 and 60 reefs.
Now the waters of the creek are dappled with tiny silvery waves turning slowly out to sea again. There are fingers of clouds reaching above from the pink horizon. High up, morning gulls fly. Far away a lone dog is barking. Do I hear the sea rolling?
Suddenly there is a large dolphin turning through the waters. Behind him, another smaller dolphin follows. She has a baby dolphin close at her side, their movements in perfect harmony.
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