The earliest sunrises of the year come in mid-June.
Right before Father’s Day,
right before schools let out,
and turn the quiet Cape upside down with tourists.
On these early mornings,
I bike the long, flat miles of the Rail Trail,
under a cool, leafy green canopy
through Orleans, Harwich, and Brewster.
Today, Red-Winged Blackbirds fly just above my shoulders,
and long brown bunnies
hurriedly crisscross the narrow-paved path.
How I wish you were here.
Wish you would rise, just once,
to feel the beautiful quiet
of the place you’ve lived and loved for so many years.
Take it in, before people and progress rise and over run.
Hear the singing birds, feel the early morning damp and
witness the low orange sun through the one thin spit of clouds.
Wish you could see how the petals dropped from flowering trees
stick to my thin tires,
leaving long white trails
of crepe paper collages on the damp black surface.
Wish you were with me when I finally approach the empty bay beach,
where the water makes little effort on this still morning,
producing only the smallest of ripples lapping the shore.
I wish I could give this to you.
This peace.
This quiet.
Wish you would just reach out and grab it.
The calming voice of early summer is right out your door.
Gail Goodwin lives in Orleans.
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