Monday, January 7, 2008
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Friday, January 4, 2008
Orange Winter Sunrise
The early peak of most mornings is usually that first cup of coffee. Not mine.
The orange winter sunrise has become my morning drug of choice. Sure, I still have my coffee, but before my first cup, before the kids are up, before I say a word to anyone, I take Riley out for her walk. Every morning. Sideways rain, howling wind, piling snow, whatever. We’re out there. Riley and I fear no weather and we’re out the door around 6am every day.
We walk on Bliss Road. Bliss is a 2 mile long dirt road that we live at one end of and that I originally thought was named because it’s a peaceful, meandering, beautiful back road of Vermont. Recently I learned it was named for the Bliss family who’ve lived on it for years. Well, either way works for me. So we take Bliss up to Turn-Around-Rock, which is (you guessed it) where we turn around and head back. But before you hit Turn-Around Rock, before you’re 100 feet down Bliss, you are in a special spot. When you’re walking down Bliss Road from it’s beginning at Center Road, you’re heading south. The eastern sunrise is directly off to the left, just over our garage’s high roof. And when it’s all going right - the right time of year, the right weather, Riley and I in the right spot, when all the ingredients are involved (which is very often) there is a magical orange sunrise. And it’s best this time of year, in the deep winter. Whenever I see it, I pick my chin up from out of my fully-zipped hooded black Burton puffy jacket and I smile. Riley doesn’t notice things like that. But she’s happy.
It seems like its mine every time. My own orange winter sunrise. I’m sure it’s not. I’m sure someone else is seeing it, too and there’s probably even people who look for it and hope to see it and focus on it and think about it like I do. But not on the corner of Center and Bliss at 6am in the morning. Nobody else is there. That’s a view I’ve never shared with another human. That orange winter sunrise is all ours. Every time.
It makes the coffee, all brewed and ready for me when we return home, that much better. But that first cup is definitely not the peak of the morning. It’s usually just the added incentive. Early mornings on Bliss are bliss. No way else around it.
The orange winter sunrise has become my morning drug of choice. Sure, I still have my coffee, but before my first cup, before the kids are up, before I say a word to anyone, I take Riley out for her walk. Every morning. Sideways rain, howling wind, piling snow, whatever. We’re out there. Riley and I fear no weather and we’re out the door around 6am every day.
We walk on Bliss Road. Bliss is a 2 mile long dirt road that we live at one end of and that I originally thought was named because it’s a peaceful, meandering, beautiful back road of Vermont. Recently I learned it was named for the Bliss family who’ve lived on it for years. Well, either way works for me. So we take Bliss up to Turn-Around-Rock, which is (you guessed it) where we turn around and head back. But before you hit Turn-Around Rock, before you’re 100 feet down Bliss, you are in a special spot. When you’re walking down Bliss Road from it’s beginning at Center Road, you’re heading south. The eastern sunrise is directly off to the left, just over our garage’s high roof. And when it’s all going right - the right time of year, the right weather, Riley and I in the right spot, when all the ingredients are involved (which is very often) there is a magical orange sunrise. And it’s best this time of year, in the deep winter. Whenever I see it, I pick my chin up from out of my fully-zipped hooded black Burton puffy jacket and I smile. Riley doesn’t notice things like that. But she’s happy.
It seems like its mine every time. My own orange winter sunrise. I’m sure it’s not. I’m sure someone else is seeing it, too and there’s probably even people who look for it and hope to see it and focus on it and think about it like I do. But not on the corner of Center and Bliss at 6am in the morning. Nobody else is there. That’s a view I’ve never shared with another human. That orange winter sunrise is all ours. Every time.
It makes the coffee, all brewed and ready for me when we return home, that much better. But that first cup is definitely not the peak of the morning. It’s usually just the added incentive. Early mornings on Bliss are bliss. No way else around it.
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