The couple is unwound and the torches are gathered for a procession to the beach. A small campfire is ready and waiting on the sand. After a few failed attempts the damp logs spit to life as the dawn begins to brighten the steely sky. The group cheers, then huddles around the fire, sipping hot coffee out of thermoses. A few people twirl around the fire, but as the morning light intensifies, the magic seems to fade.
Folks anxiously regard their wristwatches and make ready to leave for their workdays.
But it is a magical week. He rises, taking the hand of his Maid wife, and spins around the campfire, celebrating the growing heat of the day with the tinkle of bells. Faeries are in the air. A cloud of multicolored kites swirls and twinkles over Crissy Field like silvery moths ducking and diving in the sunlight. An enormous red strawberry bounces on the turf as wind ebbs and flows through its spiky skin.