I haven’t seen skies like this since California. This city forces you to look up, so you naturally slow. It’s an exercise in mindfulness whether you want it or not.

I didn’t sleep, but followed the music instead. Mi Viejo by Vicente Fernandez (thank you Shazam). It led me to four very intoxicated men singing their hearts out along to this song. When it ended, one of them started weeping. This boy was going through it.

I kept it movin’, and sat by the ocean to count stars and make my wishes. I was there long enough to watch the sun blanket the night sky, and learn how the seagulls primarily feast.

My wishes are in Allah’s hands, so I have nothing about which to worry.

The tide washes in what are very small silver fish – maybe sardines? They become trapped too far away from the tide to swim back to safety, and the seagulls descend.

I didn’t know this when I saw the first two struggling to breathe and pushed them gently back into the water, to live. As I did this, and out of the corner of my eye, movement. When I looked over, I saw dozens more, all ashore and incapable of reaching the water. I started panicking because my first thought was that I wouldn’t be able to help them all, and some would die because of my inability to do so.

Which is when the seagulls descended, and I froze as I watched. 

Circle of life. Everything serves a purpose, in both life and death. I left the fish to their fate and walked past where the men had previously been singing. The saddest one was the only one left, asleep upright in a chair facing the ocean. I hope the ocean works her magic on his broken heart, whatever the cause. I hope that he too is wishing. More important however, I hope he hydrates and doesn’t get sunstroke.

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