Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Sunrise, Moonset

6:15 this morning.  That cold, familiar nose begins nudging gently at my outstretched hand(not Mark's) and I climb out of bed to let Becca outside so that we can both quickly retreat back into our beds, back into the warmth, back into the restful worlds of our dreams.  But just as I expect that I will barely have to open my eyes before snuggling securely back underneath the soft weight of my down comforter, I am startled into a sudden hyper-awareness by the mirrored beauty of the full moon as it reflects upon the water. I gasp out loud and the noise sounds as if it has come from someone else.  I consider keeping this moment of absolute sudden beauty to myself but my desire to share what I am witnessing gets the better of me and, as usual in moments like these, I reach for my camera to preserve.  I think about the idea that a moment does not become any less holy just because my second or third thought is to snap a few photographs of it and the next sound I hear is a soft, repetitive click, click, click.  I am now more inside of the moment than I was before and as I turn from the side of the horizon in which the moon was beginning to set, I am once again struck by that feeling of awe.
For behind me, over the San Clemente pier, the sun is slowly beginning its lazy ascent into the sky taking its time as if to gaze at the moon.  On one side, the moon finishing its glorious light show and on the other, the sun ushering in a brand new day.  Oh, the possibilities.  Oh, the colors!
Becca runs past me back into the house but I am no longer in a rush to close my eyes so I stand outside and watch as it happens all around me.  Moon, earth, and sun.  Everything feels as if it is perfectly aligned.
And as the colors begin to blend into one another, I take one more look at my world as it appears right at this moment at 6-something in the morning and I wonder to myself if I will ever be able to readjust my circadian rhythm to become a morning person.  No, I decide.  If four babies within six years was not permanently able to change it for me, then there is probably a very small possibility of it ever occurring in this lifetime and that is okay.  For there are wonders that happen on both sides of the day and more than likely, by witnessing one, the chance of being awake to witness the other is fairly unlikely.

As I make my way back to my bed, I stop to cradle Becca's sweet face in my hands and I kiss her firmly on the snout.  She looks at me as if the sun and the moon rise around me and I realize that to her at least, they do.  I have witnessed more than one incredibly magical moment this morning.


Mark said...

Beautiful photos.
I can't believe that you are not a morning person. I can't sleep past 6a.m. to save my life. If I ever slept past 7a.m., I would feel as if my day was half over.
Good Morning. Enjoy your day.

Renee said...

As Joel and I lay in bed this morning we spoke aloud things we are grateful for ~ I can add the photos and words you shared here this morning to my list! What a lovely way to start my day!

Miss A said...

You are pure poetry lady! And a good mamma to Becca. The view from your home is incredible. Thanks for sharing them. I, too, love the water. It's in fact my favorite element and I hope that my life leads me to one day be able to stare out at the ocean from my home. What a blessing it would be.

Sharon said...

My first thought was that you live in one of the most beautiful places on earth. My second thought was that I was glad to hear someone else admit that she is not a morning person ~ I never have been and don't believe I ever will be. Your beautiful photos were worth getting up for:)

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