Monday, June 8, 2015

Good Morning Sun

Phenomenal! When Buddy and I left the house this morning to hike up the ridge I had put on a light sweater . . . and I was warm! For the first time this season, the air was actually soft and temperate soon after sunrise. Oh, there have been a few warm days, hitting 80 or so by mid-afternoon, but the early mornings have carried a bit of chilled air leftover from the nighttime. I was almost uncomfortable by the time we reached the turn-around to head for home and breakfast.

One of the pleasures of living so far from any urban center is that the light and shade change according to the position of the sun, not the availability of electricity. On a crisp winter night, or after a warm summer’s day, one can step just beyond the circle of light and then look up. Here the sky is never black, but illuminated by the billions of stars and planets we can see. If you have never been excited by the night sky it must be because you have never lived with the heavens so close, and so visible. Here there are nights when you feel you can touch the stars.

I like standing outside in the dark, looking at the beyond. But I like the sunrise even more.

For me, stepping outside, even on the coldest morning, when the sun has yet to show itself, still rising behind the eastern mountain, brings a sense of well-being, a certain knowledge that there is a day ahead to be lived and experienced. I sense in the response of Buddy (and Teddy when he joins us), acknowledgment that we have survived the night, the darkness that perhaps led our most distant ancestors to search for their version of the origin of life, and to begin each new day as an opportunity to start life over.

Dawn brings a sense of renewal with each new day. The rising sun tells me that there is time yet to correct the errors of the day before, to finish what was left undone when sleep overtook me, to experience as yet uncharted aspects of life. We all understand, to some degree, that there are limits to life; not everything we want will come to us, nor will all we need to accomplish be done. There are limits, constraints of time and space, ability and capacity, yet the sun rises, and with it, possibilities.

As I walk up the ridge, or circle the fields below, I savor the scent of grass and leaves and blossoms; feel the dew that reminds me of the transition from dark to light, from night to day, from yesterday’s concerns to today’s solutions. I love that time of day more than any other: the refreshing of life with the promise of another opportunity to make the most of the time and the light. The walk I take, the path I follow, leads me to embrace the new day, the fresh sun, happy that I am here to welcome it, sure that there is a new day to live.

Good morning, sun!

1 comment:

  1. And now a week later, it's very warm. My garden loves it. Me? I'm learning to stay inside during the heat and venture out on the edges of the day. I'm becoming crepuscular.