It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life."
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We spoke not a word as we fumbled in the dark, searching for our sweatshirts and our shoes, and trying our best not to disturb their sleeping. The door creaked when we opened it, and we slipped out and closed the door behind us as quietly as possible. We walked down the unlit stairs, making our way in the grey, to the winding path. Trees loomed like benevolent spirits with their loose-fitting Spanish moss dancing in the early morning breeze. Carolina Wren and Carolina Chickadee provided the soundtrack to our spontaneous pursuit of watching the sunrise on the beach.
The young girl’s reed hut stood strong in the dark of dawn. She had spent the whole afternoon working on this, patiently searching for reeds in the sand, separating the lengthy and straight ones, adding these one by one to create her tiny home. I had thought the tides would sweep this away, yet here it is, greeting us on the beach.
I saw immediately that we were not alone in the quiet, and I admit to feeling a bit of frustration. Who were all these folks, walking and waiting, just like us, along the beach? They walked in singles and pairs, perhaps two dozen folks in all. Their dogs raced with joy across the sand. There was a threesome of young athletes, performing jumping jacks, high knees, twists, skipping, and waving their arms high.
I wanted these strangers to leave to leave the sunrise for me yet why do I presume to be overseer of the sunrise?
Is it somehow more mine simply because it is my first time all week getting out of bed early enough to witness it? There is more than enough for all of us. There is so much joy in the viewing.
In a touch of irony, one dog walker calls out to me – “I took a lovely photo of you two in the early morning light, would you like it?”
Her photo was a gift, and a gentle reminder to be kind.
We continued our walking, towards the sunrise, slowly, slowly, slowly.
It was magnificent.
I suppose if one watched the sunrise each and every morning, they might say this one was average. An overcast start to the day obscured the sun, and it was a full half hour after the forecasted sunrise time before the clouds released the sun to us. However, as our only sunrise of the week (thank you, last weekend’s time change), it was absolutely glorious to us.
Here is a close up of that young girl’s straw hut, in better light:
rippling light isn’t always boisterous bright front and center sometimes it is a quiet offering wavering shyly along the margins slow to comprehend look to the edges for light gift a stranger a sliver
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