On the morning of August 15 did not sleep for the excitement. At least I did not sleep a wink. My day began at 4 am, with a strong coffee and with the background of Besame mucho. The nature there was propitious: the sea had risen, the wind was inclement weather, the people who adagiavano arranged in a semicircle on the sun loungers huddled in their sweaters. The dawn came with the first tear rose into the leaden sky and the first notes of a grand solemn Miserere that erupted on that unusual proscenium, bouncing to the horizon and putting to flight the last stars. I remember the silence of the small families with children, the effort of the musicians, the magic of dance with our feet in the water, as the output from a shell but, above all, the feeling of having pointed a pin on the flow of time. Only two hours later in the morning has become like all the other bathers who arrived in dribs and drabs, under the load of bags packed with games, lifeguards us we drank another cup of coffee and everything has taken its course.