One of the things that I look forward to out here is a good sunrise: see, it's usually cloudy, so when there's a sunrise with just SOME clouds, it is breathtaking, and it's never the same twice. Wednesday's was one of those. I'd caught some light out of one of the closed circuit cameras way beforehand, and I'd gone out there a couple times for the preview. It was going to be awesome: the clouds were in long sheets and large clusters, with that purple to orange gradient in
My second time outside I found a huge dark grey cloud to the left of the sun. It was shaped like a man's profile, and was facing the sun. It soon turned into a lion, then a pig. I caught the man and the lion on camera, but not the pig.
My third time out there were a few scientists out there, cameras at the ready. The sun had risen above the horizon, but hid behind a sheet of gray and white cloud, such that the area between the sheet and the water was a golden orange. We chatted about the clouds and took pictures.
the water was still that yucky silver/gray color, but the sky was amazing: puffy white clouds, blue-gray sky beneath, glowing a gold and orange color at the tops.
The sun still lingered behind that gray sheet. A warm breeze blew the sea-mist in my face and through my hair. I breathed deeply and took it in.
"Come on already!" I shouted.
Finally, the orange between the gray cloud and the water dissipated, it was dark for a second, and above that cloud, a rush of light. In a matter of minutes, the sky was blue with white clouds, and the water was that unmistakable blue color, with a carpet of gold on the ripples leading to the still-rising sun. The world's eyes were open, its colors vibrant, and everything I saw -- clouds, waves, horizon -- was alive. Someone turned and said, "Good morning!"
You could still look at the sun, most of it was still hidden by the cloud, in that only-mostly-blinding manner. I turned and reflected on the paparazzi that had suddenly formed: what is it about some light and clouds that turns a herd of nerds into proficient artists? It's even got me penning paragraphs of prose, and I'm sure every one of those photos is a masterpiece. Well, it's at least a memory of a masterpiece.