There is something really special – for me, at least – about watching the sun rise in the morning and then set in the evening. It’s a magical thing; a true “beauty emergency” (in poet Maggie Smith’s words) that deserves to be observed whenever possible.

It’s easy for me to watch sunsets when I’m at home. I can just . . . step out my front door, and there they are! My camera roll is filled with photos of beautiful sunsets . . . because it’s an every day view from my front porch, my front lawn.

The sunrises, though? That’s an up north thing for me. And it takes a bit more effort than opening my front door! (But not much.)

I mean . . . first, I need to get my sorry ass out of bed in the dark hours of the very early morning (which is challenging enough for me right there; at least most days). And then it’s out the door and down the path to the dock. In the dark. Traversing 104 rotting railroad tie steps over/down a steep, uneven trail through the woods. In my flip flops. (Yeah. I know.)

But it’s always worth it . . . stepping into the clearing and onto the dock.

And it’s easier when Tom comes with me. (That’s him there in the water, heading out in his fishing kayak.)

The sun coming up . . . to meet the new day . . . changes by the second. And it’s particularly gorgeous as it unfolds over the water. Mirror images = magical!

And the bird chorus! Oh, the bird chorus is AMAZING in the morning at the lake. Loons and hawks and cranes and heron. Songbirds and Purple Martins and kingfishers. Pileated woodpeckers . . . and hummingbirds. It’s a morning cacophony!

It takes its time most mornings at the lake . . . the sun rising over the trees. But it’s always worth the wait . . . and the waking early!

Every time I head down to watch the sunrise, I think of Mary Oliver. And I say her poem to myself . . .

Why I Wake Early
Mary Oliver

Hello, sun in my face.
Hello, you who make the morning
and spread it over the fields
and into the faces of the tulips
and the nodding morning glories,
and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and the crotchety —

best preacher that ever was,
dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever-darkness,
to ease us with warm touching,
to hold us in the great hands of light —
good morning, good morning, good morning.

Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness.

I hope your day . . . this day . . . is starting in happiness, in kindness.
The sun rises and sets every day, whether we can see it or not. Which is something to keep in mind always.

Onward.

=====

That last sunrise photo is one that Tom took from his fishing kayak in the lake. Those are Sandhill Cranes there, flying off in the distance. He watched them on shore for awhile, and then as they took off. He didn’t realize there was a sundog in the photo, too . . . until I pointed it out to him.

Here are the cranes on shore, right next to his kayak. (He took this photo, too.)