The moon is still high in the sky and a chorus of birds are furiously calling on the sun to rise once again.
Avoiding the worker bees that fill the 8am boat with their blank stares and black shoes, the early birds ride the open back of a fairy and are reminded by the wind that they too have wings.
The sun has heard the call and is painting the sky with busts of glowing white and blue. The ocean smiles back with a flirty sparkle.
The city revives itself slowly, light by light, as the harbour yawns at the start of a new day.