Tag: Sunrise

Sunrises and Sunsets: An Opacarophile’s Notes of Magic

Every time we go on vacation, I proclaim proudly the first night, “I am going to go for a sunrise walk in the morning. Do not look for me!”

It is old hat by now. The children and the husband exchange amused looks and say, “Sure! Of course!” Followed by a chortle of such mirth that it should offend me. But vacations and all that – I let it slide. You see? I am rather a slow starter in the mornings. The caffeine tries, the shower tries, the folks around me try. But it takes a good hour or so before the spirit can rise and shine and birds chirping can become song to my ears and all that.

This time though, I surprised everyone including myself.

I set off on my sunrise, sunset and starry strolls every day I was there. It was marvelous – one morning, I sat trying to discern all the hues and colors in the sunrise, the shapes of the clouds, the fast disappearing mists that were clinging not a moment ago, making way for the humid day ahead of us.

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I could hear my heart rise in song without emitting a single chirp – trying to keep in tune with the little palm warblers, and the mynahs reminding me of a silly rhyme we would chant as school children, giggling ourselves silly every time.

One for success

Two for a toy

Three for a boy (giggle, giggle)

Four for a girl (giggle, giggle)

Five for a letter (we were in a boarding school)

Six for something (can’t remember)

Seven for a secret (Secret Seven By Enid Blyton must’ve inspired that one!)

And on and on, it would go.

I smiled thinking of that rhyme – something I hadn’t chanted in three decades, and yet, it came to me that morning looking at the little birds hopping about the island. The brain really is marvelous. Scents, images, words, phrases can all evoke associative memory – it truly is powerful.

Taking in the slow way in which the island is drenched in its beauty, I walked back to our cozy lodgings, feeling very smug, and proclaiming that all those who missed the sunrise .. well, missed the sunrise.

“The sun will rise again tomorrow, Mother.” the children chorused looking gobsmacked that I had taken a sunrise stroll. 

I somehow managed a sunrise stroll every day that we were there. On the last day, the husband joined me, and the island, to show us how special that was, even greeted us with a rainbow by the Buddha statue overlooking the ocean.

We were quiet for sometime wondering how a simple play of light and moisture can produce something as beautiful as that. Even the birds seemed to have fallen silent. Then the birds chirped, and the husband chattered again. 

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An opacarophile is a lover of sunrises and sunsets

A solist is one who loves events of the sun (sunrise, sunset, eclipse) etc

A heliophile is who loves the sun

A photophile is a lover of light

I feel the importance of this quote – for both sunset and sunrises

“Never waste any amount of time doing anything important when there is a sunset outside that you should be sitting under.” – C Joybell.C

Sun Rise Sun Rise!

We stood there waiting for the sunrise over the Grand Canyon. 

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We had driven up there the previous evening in what felt like 20 degree weather. The moon lit scapes around us were beautiful from inside the car, but outside, it looked unforgiving. It was cold, and the desert around us was different enough. Even so, the same landscapes at night take on a different feel and dimension altogether. The shelves of stone around us in the early morning light of dawn was breathtaking. As if a different hue was revealed with every tilt in angle of the sun’s rays. 

How drawn to light we are as a species? Somewhere, the sharp smells of pine wafted through, and I wondered briefly whether we stopped to let our other senses weigh in as much when we have sight and light. 

I suppose we do let sounds and smells in, and do allow our sense of touch  to help us along. But do we really develop our other senses? A preliminary search says we gather about 80% of our sensory perceptions using sight. 

Dogs, on the other hand, seem to distribute their perceptions between sight, smell and sound. 

The early morning calm of the sun-rise and my meandering thoughts were interrupted by the loud calls of a mother looking for her children. I turned around irritated, and was somewhat surprised that I was surrounded by this many people on a cold Christmas Day morning, standing on a cliff overlooking the Grand Canyon and waiting for the sun to rise. 

But I suppose, it was my fault for not expecting this. It promised to be a beautiful day, after all, and like me, many had decided to brave the cold, and take in the marvelous sunrise over the horizon at a point helpfully named Sunrise Point. 

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I let out an amused grin, and exchanged a look with the children – they seem to have caught on to my look of surprise at finding other people there. It was a beautiful moment: the mother pulled her child towards her, and the sun burst forth in glory over the horizon. 

All was well with the world at this moment. 

Let’s go for some breakfast and then take a long, quiet walk along time, I said shuffling away from Sunrise Point, and the children chuckled at the thought. We are not an early rising family, and we scurried inside towards warmth, food and coffee before attempting to take on people and canyons. 

The Meditative Glaze

The lark does let me win sometimes. I can’t deny that I love the early morning snooze in. I am not one of those birds who sit up in bed chirping happily. I like to squirm about the nest and cheep rather groggily before nudging in to my day. Yet, there are days when I get up before dawn cracks over the horizon and those days, I don’t like to waste indoors. I want to boast to the world that I am up, I am embracing the day. Most days in Hawaii during our recent vacation, I was up to welcome my day with a smile and a walk. It was our first day in Kauai, the Garden Island. While there, our apartment had a partial ocean view. What that means is, that if you are tall enough and know how to crane your neck in a Z-shaped angle, you will be able to see the ocean. Early on our first morning, I went a-walking. I inhaled the fresh sea air, I looked up at the lightening sky and admired the hues. I thought of how an artist would capture that moment, and how despite the many, many paintings of a tropical beach, there are few that can truly capture the essence of being there. How do you make a painting breathe? How do you make a photograph scent the salted air, or listen to the crashing sound of waves. I found that I could not stand still, I needed to do something, and so I did. I walked. I must have walked quite a bit for the sun had risen and I decided that no matter how lax peoples’ standards are in the dressing department in Hawaii, I could not pass off my nightie as formal wear for too long into the morning. So, I headed back to our apartment.

If there is a fault with my early morning walks, it is that it puts me in a loquacious mood. I want to share my energy and relive the scenery and all that boot. As I headed back home, I remembered that the husband rashly took it upon himself to meditate first thing in the morning, so maybe I will find him quietly contemplating the wonders of the world.

Aha! Just as I thought: I turned the corner to see the husband there on the porch in our apartment. I was dying to share the exhilaration of the morning air, and waved to him at the rate of 38 mph in the clockwise direction and 32 mph in the anti-clockwise direction . At first, I thought he did not notice me. For there was no reaction from him, though he clearly had his face turned towards me. It must be the meditative glaze. So, I hollered my best “HI!” – I modulated the pitch so that it could be heard over the sound of the waves and simultaneously broke into a run to better conquer the lawn between self and the porch.

If there was an Indian movie director at the time, he could have gotten the perfect shot of a less-than-glamourous, slightly disheveled heroine running in slow motion through the lifting mists, and plugged it into any of his movies. Obviously one expects the hero to do his share. I mean, one doesn’t expect him to stand around while the heroine does all the work right?

You could have thrown a blade of grass at me and knocked me down at what happened next. The man turned and scuttled off inside like he had never seen me before. The nerve!

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But, I must not be too harsh on the poor man, for it turns out that he had never seen me before. I was rushing through the wrong lawns and waving and Hi-ing to  the man of the house at Building 2N when I should have been hollering at the man in Building 1N. I forgave the man his impudence and went on with a dignified gait to see the man I loved at Building 1N. I needn’t have worried. My man was there neatly tucked in bed, transcending that beautiful world of dreams and dreaming of meditating while looking at that ocean. Or maybe, the meditation had sent him to his dreams again.

Whatever it was, the world was in its right place and I marched out again to sip a cup of water before the household awoke.