The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you—don’t go back to sleep. Rumi.
I’ve always preferred a good sunrise. Many of the sunrises I’ve seen have blended in with day before and therefore didn’t seem as wonderful, because the real magic of a sunrise is that it marks a new beginning. The sun returns, peeking out from behind the ocean, over fields or between trees to give us another opportunity. We’re being gifted another day to live, another chance to do things differently, to adjust our perspectives, to be more grateful than the day before. What a precious thing, the sunrise.
I wake up every day to the evidence of a sunrise having taken place. To witness one, however, takes great effort, or luck. Take this morning for example: I got up to drink some water and as I stopped to scratch the dogs, I noticed a fiery orange light sending flames over the ocean, and I quickly made the decision not to go back to bed, but to put the coffee on instead. I sat in the hammock watching the colors of the water and the sky change from shades of bright orange against a blackish-blue to lavenders and Easter pastels. As if someone were mixing oil paints, the colors swirled and blended into one another until, just above the water, I saw that heart-wrenching shade of fuscia-red; that soul-twisting, that mind-blowing shade of of pure life energy that can only be seen for a few moments each day, and only when the conditions are perfect. I watched the sun rise over the Mediterranean, and as that unreal, unearthly red changed into the clean yellow of the risen sun, I felt the deepest gratitude.
And for the rest of my day, I was grateful.