I went out before sunrise this morning. The sky was already light, but the sun would not rise for about ten minutes.
The thermometer said it was a chilly 33 degrees, but it didn't feel that cold. My anticipation for the morning was keeping me warm, or maybe it was my coffee.
The eastern sky was already brightening. I scanned the horizon over the treetops, trying to guess where the sun would appear, by finding the brightest spot.
The wind was calm and the lake smooth, like a mirror. Five ducks were swimming around the islands and among the new rocks exposed by the falling water level.
I knew that to the west, across Neals cove, the trees along that shoreline would get to see the sun first. I wondered how easy it would be for me to see when the sun first hit their tops.
It was quiet. But not really. The normal daily noise of boats and nearby cars, dogs barking and birds calling, were all silent. But the far-off, subdued roar of the distant highway was a sort of background sound.
To the west the fall-colored treetops were looking brighter. I watched for a minute. They were clearly getting brighter. Yes, I can see that it's the sun shining on them.
Over the next few minutes the orange and yellow leaves glowed brighter, and the pine treetops start to show the sunshine.
Looking up, the nearby treetops started to clearly show the sunlight. Even though the eastern horizon was bright, I still couldn't tell exactly where the sun would appear.
As the sunshine worked its way down the trees on the western shore, the eastern horizon got lighter. I began to see that one area was much brighter than the rest. That's where the sun would appear.
I started to see flecks of white-hot brightness through the trees on the eastern shore. Brighter and brighter, the sun became more obvious. The sunshine line on the western shore had almost reached the water level.
Finally the sun appeared fully over the eastern treeline. I'm always amazed at how bright the sun seems at this moment. Before sunrise, the land and the sky seem as light and bright as a day would need to be. But when the sun finally appears, it is so bright that even looking it its general direction hurts.
It's daytime now.
Posted by jackhodgson at November 4, 2004 09:24 AM