Sunrise

Walking the Greenway one morning earlier this week, I was kicking myself for leaving the camera at home and failing to capture the spectacular sunrise; bright magenta clouds shaded with lavender laying low on the horizon. So I vowed to rise before dawn and head out, sans dog, to capture what I had missed with a long, leisurely trawl along the trail.

The early bland

I was able to witness the first glow of dawn in the east; a rather bland orange-to-blue gradient utterly devoid of the glamour of the previous sunrise. I convinced myself that this plain-Jane sunrise was, in fact, the more charming. It wasn't trying too hard like that tacky, New York businessman's penthouse of a sunrise the other day.  

This sunrise took a little effort to appreciate, like the winter Greenway. Without the extravagant colors to draw the eye, one must look for textures and contrasts; the way the twisting branches of a tree stand out against the eastern glow, or the observation that the orangey glow due east transforms more into a rosy-purple as your eyes scan towards the south.

As the minutes pass, however, the colors grow more intense. What had been a leaden streak of clouds in the northeast is set aflame, first a soft blush, then lit from below with a heady glow as the sun awakens. I turn around and see the rippled wall of clouds in the west has changed to violet, a softer reflection of the drama opposite. Forget that insipid oatmeal sunrise from a few minutes ago...this is what I came for.

 

Wetlands Triptych

By the time I reach the Wetlands, the clouds create a heavenly frame over a pale cerulean sky, glowing both above and below. The reflection on the water is magical, a play of light and color that an amateurish camera lens like mine could not capture with any justice. 

A few scant moments later, the sun makes its appearance and the show is over. The flaming orb itself is rather a letdown after the fraught anticipation its coming renders on the sky above. The colors flee, and the harsh light penetrates a bit too deeply the eye that had grown accustomed to the earlier soft glow. The world changed, imperceptibly, minute by minute: from a bland, chilly darkness to a blazing dawn to an unremarkable chilly morning. The entire spectacle would pass unnoticed from inside  the house.

The rosy west

Every day, every place this happens. Sometimes, when we may make an effort to see it; we may notice a particularly colorful reflection on the neighbor's patio doors that drives us out to the deck for a better look. More often, we go about our business and are content to catch it those few weeks during the year when its coming coincides with our morning dog walk or commute to work. The sun rises. Some days it is plain; some days it is thoroughly hidden; some days it is magnificent. Every day it is wonderful.