I awoke this morning at about dawn to a room suffused with the rose-tinged light of an ongoing sunrise. I peered outside to see high clouds resplendent with this roseate hue. Last evening the sun set in similar ruddy fashion, leaving windows aglow with pink to purple shades. It has always amazed me how the sun during its entrance and egress into and out of this world exhibits an exceptional show of color in a remarkably similar style.

This puts me in mind of my experiences at sea. During my seafaring days, I would typically rise before dawn, go up on deck and watch the sunrise. At sea, the sun rises and sets in a 360-degree tableau. Unlike on land, where landmasses and other obstructions tend to mar this spherical visibility, the colors of the sunrise at sea stretch completely around the horizon; it is truly an extraordinary sight.

I am unsure about Plain States, such as Kansas or places equally flat, where moors predominate, for instance; I would suppose these locales experience something similar but this is only a guess. Personally, I have only witnessed this phenomenon at sea. The reflective nature of water only accentuates this spectacle.

Out on the beach, the hellacious winds of recent memory had subsided somewhat, yet with a breeze still stiff enough to lift a spray off the tops of the cresting swells. A lone fisherman stood casting into the surf presumably unaware his solitary efforts left the impression of man’s inconsequentiality against one of the world’s most prodigious forces, i.e. the sea.

In California, where I once lived, sunsets at the beach are similarly astounding; I am sure I will likely grow to enjoy Atlantic sunrises as much as I did Pacific sunsets. As the sun sinks into the sea, the horizon refracts the light, creating the illusion of the sun dissolving into layers before sinking past the skyline. The author John Steinbeck describes this quite eloquently in his novel To a God Unknown far be it from me to attempt to surpass him.

Subsequently , over the course of this warm day, I intermittently strolled out to the beach. The swells rose and fell in moderate amplitude, surely enough to engage surfers. Not until this afternoon, however, did I espy two intrepid souls with enough nerve to honor this invitation. At the shoreline two exceedingly ashen children, obviously exposing their pallid skin for the first time this season, probed the thin wake of receding waves with timorous toes. These looked braver then the less-than-hardy two plying the frigid surf snug in their wetsuits but I may be generalizing here.

For my part, it is still too soon for the exhilaration of ocean bathing. Temperatures must rise exponentially before I will be willing to suffer those frigid waters. Meantime, I will appreciate the caprice of the sun. Moreover, I will welcome the whimsy of clouds. Further glorious sunrises are in the offing, of this, I am certain. I eagerly anticipate the enthrallment of their eloquent embrace.

© Stephen Hewitt 2010