My grandson’s wife captured a fantastic sunrise in Hawaii and shared it on digital media. I was enthralled. (See Header Photo by Samantha Talbert)
As I stared at this picture, I wondered what it is about the morning sky streaked with color that makes us ooh and aah? The sun rises every day, doesn’t it? Since I’m over fifty years of age, I’ve lived through about 18,000 or 19,000 morning suns, even been cognizant of maybe 14,000. That is a lot of repetition.
Perhaps that’s why we like the different ones—those that make us say, “Ooh, I’ve never seen a sunrise quite like that!”
Is it because of the exotic places we stop to take a picture or paint on canvas? I don’t think I’m prone to get so happy in my own backyard.
Maybe it is the promise held in a sunrise. “If last night was bad, I’m glad it’s over and I’m looking forward to a better day.”
The most exciting sunrises have lots of color: yellow, peach and rose fading into the purple of reluctant night. Water or snow underneath doubles the drama.
It could be we don’t see the sun come up so often these days. We might not waken that early or there might be a hill, trees or buildings in the way. So a sunrise has become an extra special treat.
I believe one reason I am so fascinated by sunrises (sunsets too) is that they draw my thoughts heavenward. It seems as if when my eyes look up, my emotions do also.
What do you think? Do sunrises make you think lofty things about life? Do sunsets do the same for you?
I asked my husband what he thought. He immediately responded, “We get to look directly at the sun at sunrise (and sunset). It’s the only time it is filtered enough it doesn’t hurt our eyes.” This led to a discussion of the curve of Earth’s atmosphere.
How perfectly logical of him! Here’s one more reason to celebrate the differences in men and women and the varied ways we all process our life experiences, including the everyday arrival of the sun.