Hello there. I'm happy to announce that I am back in the proximity of a computer with an internet connection for exactly the next 24 hours, and then I am due to return to my river house. I had a lovely time there with my cousins
Lavender and
Brittany hangin' out and doing river-y things, as always. I'm looking forward to next week, when we will go all out with our decorations for July 4th :D
But that's not what I wanted to blog about today. I'll have more exciting stories to share with you next week. I want to direct your attention to this blog post by Michael Aranda, entitled
Dawn. Michael seems to have a knack for writing very deep and beautiful things, a skill which I am trying to develop. In that blog post, he expresses an idea that I had wondered myself once, but the way he writes it is just.....wow. You should read his blog. *wink wink nudge nudge*
I saw my first sunrise on the last day of summer before 8th grade. My dad woke up the entire family at around 5 am, including my grandparents and the aforementioned Lavender and Brittany, and we bundled up in coats and blankets (it was surprisingly cold, I remember I could see my breath) and hopped on my family's pontoon boat. We sputtered on out to the middle of the river, and there were these huge heron birds just chillin' on the piers and random logs in the river. Wherever we looked on the coast, there were layers of cold mist and clouds curling up onto the land, and as we watched they gradually evaporated. They were like smoke, but whiter, slower, and more beautiful.
As we sat there in the blue dimness, the horizon to the east began to glow gold. The rays spread, illuminating the clouds around them to pinks and golds and sometimes greens. The giant, wavering, golden orb rose over the rooftops of the quaint little cottages, and the reflection shone brightly in the glass-still water. Occasionally a fish would fling itself up from the depths, sending ripples through the masterpiece, distorting it but somehow making it more breathtaking than before. There had been quiet conversation before the sunrise, but now all had stopped. Before, we had been groggy, by then we were all wide awake.
The sun continued to rise, or rather, the earth continued to rotate us into its path of light. Colors that I don't even have names for swirled through the sky, and the blanket of mist evaporated more quickly now. Birds chattered and ruffled their feathers and swooped down to the still-gleaming water for an early morning meal. Boats piddled out to the oyster beds for some morning fishing before the day's heat wave came through, and restless children came out to play in the glimmering dew. The people of the coast were waking, but none were as awake as us.
Eventually the sun was fully visible, the eccentric clouds returned to white and grey, and the sky retained its gentle blue. We cruised back to the dock, unloaded, and remained there, in awe of the beauty of the place that we all love so much already. Our chilled fingers and noses craved warmth, and we strolled back to the cottage for coffee and eggs with sausage. We couldn't stay for the sunset that night because of school the next day, but I believe the sunrise would have outshone it anyway. The dawn was pure and untouched, not seen by many eyes. The dusk was orange and polluted, still beautiful, but not as rare.
I am always in awe of a sunrise, and I am amazed that something that glorious starts off every day, everywhere, all around the world. It gives me a kind of nostalgia, knowing that people have watched the sun peek over the horizon for thousands of years, and they will for thousands more. I used to despise my middle name, Dawn, but after seeing the sunrise, I'm proud to have something as beautiful as that for my name.
I hope my wordiness wasn't too dull for you to read. Have a lovely week in my absence, once again. If you want to do something exciting and unique this week, with a loved one or perhaps just for fun on your own, set your alarm and watch a sunrise. It's an experience you'll never forget. <3