Sunrise

Phewww…crazy week with three days of work meetings with the NPS national planners (a lot of folks whose salaries double mine) plus wrap-up meetings for the community initiative group I’m involved in (a lot of folks whose time in Fort Collins exceeds mine by decades). All extremely fun and deeply satisfying, and all my little brain cells are on hyperdrive.

And I’ve had to get up at five each morning to head to Denver for my work meetings.

Fortunately, because I live in the land of sunshine, these morning drives have been graced with exquisite sunrises. I drive south on I-25 with the sun coming up to the east, across a never-ending swath of prairie, and the mountains (oh yeah, those Rocky Mountains) in a line off to the west, high peaks draped with snow. About every shade of yellow, gold, orange, salmon, blue, violet, purple, periwinkle and more are represented on one side or another at one moment or another.

Although one could argue I’m a morning person, I cannot claim to be a chaser of sunrise. Personal ads tout long walks on the beach at sunset, but they never mention long walks at sunrise. Bed is warm; the conditions of sunrise often involve cold. Cold. And even coffee can’t fix that equation.

But I have had my moments. Many years ago…maybe the winter of 1999, I was living in Brooklyn and taking flying lessons out on Long Island. I would fly on Sunday mornings which required me to get out of bed at a very early hour and ride my bicycle in the dark to the train station. I remember winter mornings riding the Long Island Railroad with the sun coming up in the east. This was around the time that Lyle Lovett put out his Step Inside This House collection with his version of Townes Van Zandt’s great song If I Needed You with the great line:

In the night forlorn, the morning's born
And the morning shines with the lights of love.
You will miss sunrise if you close your eyes
And that would break my heart in two.

As the sun broke over the horizon in view of my railcar, I often mindfully kept my eyes open to the rising sun, in minor joy, in relief.

The song on rotation in my car this morning was Chris Les Doux’s ode to Western Skies:  “If they ever saw a sunrise on a mountain morning…” And because I am evidently one with my favorite DJs, the sun did not go down today before Meg on the satellite radio played for me Guy Clark’s version of If I Needed You. Still true that you will miss sunrise if you close your eyes.

Let’s be clear that I’m not advocating that anyone get out of bed, the nice warm bed, early to watch sunrise. But if that is your fate, that you must be up and out at that hour, it’s a better reward than even the coffee. Minor joy. Relief.