The sound of seagulls woke me up. Sunlight streamed through the train window, and outside, the train raced across the sea, kicking up spray from the swollen waters after yesterday’s rain. The summer sunlight was blindingly white, and the wake trailing the train was just as bright. The sky was a gradient of blue, indigo, and turquoise. Ahead, a peaceful island where seagulls gathered floated vividly green against the horizon. Was my heart racing with excitement? Or was I on the verge of being crushed by anxiety? The only thing I knew for sure was that, on that island, a life without nights was about to begin. All to remember the dreams (memories) of rainy nights. —Morning glories don’t know the night (love).