I slide into the front seat, turn the key in the ignition, seeing my car headlights flare up ghostly white against my garage door. It’s still dark as I back out the driveway, and head for the main highway, but there’s a tinge of light over in the eastern sky.
As usual, there is very little traffic this time of day. I glance at the the speedometer. I’m pushing it, but still within limits…looks as if I’ll be on time for my appointment.
Ten minutes later, I stop, quickly slide out, and lock the door. I’ll have to hurry to make it, I think as I walk briskly down the asphalt walkway.
Five minutes later, the sky is no longer dark, the clouds streaking fuschia pink, red, and lavendar across the sky. At the lake, I pause. I made it. Just in time. Sure enough, the tangerine-orange ball of the sun begins to edge over the horizon on the other side of the lake, behind the trees, looking like a stained glass window, the silhouettes of tree branches forming the black lead dividers.
We’ve been meeting this way for hundreds of times, now…maybe thousands…the sun and I. Ever since I realized that sunrise—and the 20 minutes or so just before—is truly the best time of day. I had been missing it for years, hunkered down in the blanketed comfort of my bed.
In my lifetime I’ve missed thousands of sunrises. I can’t get them back. But once I’d experienced enough to know the power of this moment, I vowed, whenever it’s possible, for as long as I live, I have an appointment with the sun just as it comes up.
“Oh Carol,” my family and friends groan, when I tell them, their faces suggesting I surely must be a bit crazy. But they smile and are patient with me, and love me in spite of my eccentricities.
I try to explain. Everything smells better at sunrise…the ground, grass, leaves, even the water. Everything looks better at dawn…the startling spread of colors across the sky, the mysterious play of light and shadows. Everything even sounds better, clearer…the whir of the geese’s wings as they rise overhead.
Could it just be that my thoughts are less jumbled and distracted, more hopeful and aware? Or is it really, as it seems…is God really closer at sunrise?
In order for me to “grow greener,” my life can’t only be about becoming more responsible…recycling more, using resources less, helping ensure a better future for loved ones. Growing Greener depends on my allowing myself to be uplifted by the amazing beauty God placed here for all the planet’s children. Dawn is when we meet. Maybe you’d like to join us! Then, I hope you’ll write and tell me about it!
Feel free to
