I was standing on the beach. It was 6:30 in the morning, but somehow life wasn’t catching up with this place until 8 AM. Things had to be prepared. We had to lay all the beach towels down. We had to find just the right random scattering of people, just the right kids to chase each other with buckets of sand and water. A precise number of seagulls were brought in trucks, and then released from their cages. Finally, someone had to go up into the light house and turn this old metal crank that would put the sun exactly in the 8 o’clock position in the sky over the water. So, everything was set; everyone was in their place. I looked down at my pocket watch as the last seconds of 7:59 ticked by. Everything was still. Even the birds waited. Then, the second that 8 o’clock arrived, it all slid silently into motion, and the elegant machinery of life continued along in its smooth, eternal waltz.