As the Sun Rises in the East

There is absolutely nothing like seeing the sun rise, or set, over the water. Whether it be the waters of the Atlantic ocean, or the shallow basin of Lake Erie, these sights can be truly breathtaking. However, there's something to be said about a sunrise. It's the start of a new day. As the first lip of that burning red sphere starts to peek over the distant horizon, all of the stress and tension from the day before seems to fade away into the emerging light. Within minutes, the blazing orb is at its fullest, slowly crawling up into the rapidly lightening sky. Magnified by the dense collection of moisture near the horizon, our sun is at its largest state of being, and nothing can be more captivating. It's official; a new day has begun, full of fresh possibilities.

I woke up early this morning, roughly 5:45am or so, quietly left the house (everyone, understandably, was still asleep) and slowly walked the 600ft from our house to the beach. Since we arrived late last evening, I hadn't a chance to head down there before we all crashed for the night, so I figured this would be my best opportunity to reacquaint myself with the Atlantic shoreline for the first time in almost ten years. As I walked down the wooden steps and stepped onto the soft, deep sand, I was greeted by a blazing red sky, immediately bringing to mind my Grandpa Vimmerstedt's old Navy proverb, "Red sky in the morning, Sailor's warning." We're supposed to get hit with some vicious thunderstorms this evening, so I couldn't help but smile at the logic. It seems absurd. Maybe not so much.


I spent the next hour watching the sun rise into the morning sky. I consider myself a fairly good writer, but right now I'm having a hard time putting these moments into words. Even the picture I'm posting to go along with this entry doesn't quite do it it justice...and it's a pretty amazing photo. To put it bluntly, I was alone, and not a soul could be seen or heard in either direction down the shoreline. I was sitting, legs crossed, in the sand facing immediately east, bathing myself in the light of the dawn. My eyes were closed most of the time, and I was concentrating fairly hard on letting my body completely relax. ...And most importantly, I was breathing. This may sound like a huge load of New-Age bullshit to some people, but in all honesty, I haven't felt this at peace in months.

When I was a teenager, and dealing with the typical teen angst that most all teenagers do, my mom introduced me to a series of meditation and relaxation techniques that she used while trying to recover from cancer in the early 80's. It was alternative healing therapy that for her, on some level, worked. It had worked then, and it had worked today. Even though I wasn't obviously attempting to recover my body from a battle with cancer, or any other physical infection for that matter, I was in a sense, recovering. It's been a hard summer. It's been a busy summer. It's been a summer that I've been extremely proud of and will not soon forget, for so so many multiple reasons. But it took its toll, and this vacation is exactly what I need...as was this morning's sunrise.

I am so happy that I'm here.