Plop, plop, fizz, fizz, the pelicans are popping, and because of the reflections, it is like there are twice as many. Jane is now here and awake, so soon to work we go, and now, the water, that smooth water is ablaze with movement, as two little boats have putt-putt-putted by on each side of the bay. I had thought we would hear the water as we slept, but the bay was so still, only silence. Ah, another Pelican lifts into the sky! Now, eight fly by.