“Regardless of what happens to us or in the world around us, the sun will always rise.”
When the time changed one hour ahead for Daylight Saving Time recently, I realized that it was done especially for me. With spring approaching, and the days growing longer, I had to get up much earlier to catch the sunrise. But then, in anticipation, I did not sleep well, waiting, not wanting to sleep through the sunrise. (I did not want to set my alarm clock, so as not to wake my wife, Elfa.) By 6:30am, I was out on the dark street with a small camera in my pocket and a large one over my shoulder. I was on a mission to capture this event when his majesty, the Sun, showed his face and all his glory. (It only happens once a day.) As I’ve written before, Mount Davidson—part of San Francisco’s rich history, located 25 minutes away, in a high spirited walk up the hill from our house. I got to the top and took my first shot at 6:52am.
The world was just waking up (after all, it was Sunday). Most of the city down below was still lit with lights. The sky had a beautiful blue color with darker clouds and pink light peeking through. Behind my back on the scantily lit hill, a flock of robins were busily pecking at something on the ground, chirping constantly (possibly greeting each other with ‘Good Morning’.) I was the only one there. The silver moon was high in the sky, as a reminder that the night was not yet over. Down the hill, Downtown San Francisco was grey with some lights and the lit streets were waking up, slowly. The Golden Gate Bridge was crossing the dark water of the bay onto the other side. As the minutes passed by and the steady voice of the wind filled the air, the pink color of the sky was converting into magenta with yellow lines above Mount Diablo on the other side of the Bay. With every minute the dominating magenta was expanding, bringing the excitement in anticipation of what would happen next. The city lights on the surrounding hills were fading out and more light from the sky was slipping in.
But suddenly, the brightness of the sky was gone—everything became grey with light pink streaks. It seemed that the show was over, though I knew otherwise—it was just a prelude. His majesty was not out yet. I had to be patient. And then at 7:06am, right in front of me, the sliver of orange was announcing its’ inevitable return! The street lights below went out, and the city became dark grey. The sky became lighter, with every changing second.
And then it showed up; the white crown surrounded by strong colors of red and magenta, which slowly changed into blue and yellow, layering each other.
It was 7:07:38 am.
Suddenly I turned around, stunned by the quietness. The flock of birds, stopped chirping and were sitting on the bush facing the sun, seemingly mesmerized by the stunning scenery. It appeared that even the wind quieted down.
But the show was not over yet.
As the sun rose, the magenta became yellow, and then the sun finally showed its full glory.
It was 7:19am. Everything became illuminated. I realized, that every time I see the sun rise, it is like the first time, because it is never the same. Russian poet, Vladimir Soluhin wrote:
“Since in life everything is happening the first time, what is left is the joy of anticipation.”
P.S.
I hope that my panoramas gave you a glimpse of my experience and feelings. If you would ever like to walk to the top of Mount Davidson, I would be happy to come with you. Meanwhile, enjoy and share it with a friend.
Do Not Keep Me As A Secret!
Smile And Please SHARE It With A Friend!
