I live in a small town in Northeast Ohio, and because of my landscape photography, a lot of the locals know me by name. On more than one recent occasion I have encountered area residents who have expressed admiration for my work and then joked with me about how I must wake up REALLY early to capture the sunrise images I am known for.
“You must never sleep!” they’ve remarked. “Exactly what time do you wake up?”
It is true that I get up early when I happen to peek out the window and the skies look promising. Folks might be surprised, however, to know that my relationship with morning hasn’t always been a good one. In my younger years I was a night owl who adored the hush and solitude of the wee small hours and the luxury of sleeping late. There was a delicious satisfaction in hitting the snooze button and snuggling deeper into the pillows while the birds chirped outside the window. In those days I kept the blinds shut tight because bright light in my sleepy eyes was a particular brand of torture I did my best to avoid.
This all changed, however, when I became passionate about landscape photography and realized those first glimmers of dawn yield some of the most fantastic images possible. Thus, I have morphed from a night owl to an early bird, and daybreak has become one of my favorite times—a time of spiritual rejuvenation, delight and wonder.
Occasionally I will share an image on social media and caption it: “Have you ever seen a sunrise (or sunset) that made you feel lucky to be alive?” I pose this question because I believe when we immerse ourselves in the beauty and wonder of nature we can quiet our worries and be present in the here and now. We can breathe deep and feel grateful we are alive in this moment on this planet earth. Living in the here and now isn’t easy for us humans. We fret about the future, and we ruminate about the past, but the moments when we surrender to the here and now seem to bring us the greatest peace and happiness.
And, hey, it’s difficult NOT to be present in the now as you watch a magnificent sunrise (or sunset) unfold before you!
I’ve spent many hours chasing sunrises (and sunsets), and I’ve observed a few things about them.
First, Mother Nature’s heavenly palette is quite unpredictable.
Sometimes it’s easy to foretell that a sunrise (or sunset) is going to be unforgettable. The wow factor often boils down to one thing: clouds. A clear, blue sky simply cannot produce the same stunning visual effects as a partly cloudy sky can. Below are some examples of this:
Of course, a sky with too many clouds isn’t a favorable thing either, although sometimes an overcast, gray sky can suddenly and unexpectedly explode with vibrancy as the sun vanishes below the horizon line. Usually when this happens it’s not only surprising but also very short-lived.
And that brings me to my second observation about sunrises (and sunsets): The window of time for capturing amazing images is very brief.
You have to move fast because those wondrous colors dissolve in a hurry. The sky can change from extraordinary to blah within a matter of seconds. It’s rather astonishing how in the blink of an eye the glowing hues appear and then fade and disappear. Without the camera they’d be lost forever, existing only in our memory.
Perhaps this is just another aspect of dawn (and dusk) that helps to create and foster an awe and appreciation for life itself. Sunrises (and sunsets) represent the brevity of all that is precious and miraculous. They are a gentle reminder to: enjoy the moment; show the people you love what they mean to you; take that chance (whatever it may be); and live that dream. It all sounds very cliché, I know, but on the day you die these are things you will reflect upon with satisfaction or regret. These are the things that will matter the most–the things you will wish you had embraced the hardest within the margins of this meteoric and mysterious existence.
So that brings me back to my original topic about why I wake before dawn. My favorite poet, the late Mary Oliver, penned these beautiful words about rising early in the morning:
Why I Wake Early
by Mary Oliver
Hello, sun in my face.
Hello, you who make the morning
and spread it over the fields
and into the faces of the tulips
and the nodding morning glories,
and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and crotchety–
best preacher that ever was,
dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever-darkness,
to ease us with warm touching,
to hold us in the great hands of light–
good morning, good morning, good morning.
Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness.
Morning is a time of renewal, gratitude and possibility. So the next time you find yourself standing under a great dome of colored sky, stop and take a deep breath and savor what has unfolded before you. You are here and you are alive. It’s a new dawn. To quote the poet Mary Oliver once more: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”