The sun came up today.
Yep, it happened again. Go figure.
I know because I’ve become a blithering, blathering sunrise junky. I set the alarm for 5-something, slap the snooze a couple of times, shuffle down to get the coffee dripping, then settle into my chair in the east room by a huge picture window that frames the sunrise like a movie screen. Intoxicating, galvanizing, transcendent, spiritual and way way too early in the morning. Can’t somebody schedule sunrise for, say, around noon?
As a certified sunrise junky (there’s probably a word in the mental health lexicon for this), I ask questions. Such as, exactly when is it considered official “sunrise.” You see times in the newspaper or wherever, saying that sunrise will occur at 7:21 a.m. My experience lately (and I’m a newcomer considering how long this process has been occurring) is that the rising of the sun takes a while. Two cups of coffee, in scientific terms.
Yesterday, I explored the Internet and found that the definition of sunrise is when the upper edge of the disk of the sun rises above the horizon. Of course, that moment is relative for people in different places–one person’s horizon is not necessarily another person’s horizon. Me, being situated a good 7-iron from heaven’s gate, I have a pretty good view of that moment.
So, today, I thought I’d share both the process and the moment. You should find five clips, taken on my iPhone (product placement). The first is dark. The last is wobbly because my arms got tired. But they are splendorous, glorious and make you understand why the Incas built villages on tall mountains and proclaimed their leader the sun god.
And now instead of thinking in terms of sunrise (as in precise moments), I like to think of the dawn. It’s a pretty word and rhymes with yawn, which is a natural occurrence before the second cup of coffee kicks in.