From sunrise to sunset....

So, after politics and football have dominated these blog entries lately, it seems more than time for a little shift in gears, n'est ce pas? Not that I will not be writing about those things again. You never fully know what you are going to write until you are actually writing it. However, this was something that was on my mind a bit lately, and when it came up, the words just flowed. So, it seemed appropriate to share.

I was asked recently whether I am more of a morning person or a night person, and, as usual perhaps with me, the answer is a bit more complex than it might initially appear to be.

I used to be much more exclusively a night person, as well. Funny thing is that my mother is exclusively a morning person, and it was never unusual for her to be in bed (even if she was reading) by 8pm or so, sometimes even earlier! My father and brother (and I, for quite a while) were more night owls. That began to change for me over the years, right around the time that my son was born. I began to be more disciplined, on many levels. Started to wake up really early, in order to write and/or walk. I began to really enjoy it, and it stemmed form a memory I had many years ago when still a kid. We were visiting France, and my aunt was taking us to the family vacation house that they had about four or so hours away. She got us up very early - it was still dark out. I felt pained, and did not want to wake up. But we were driving, and everything was dark, the world still seemed asleep. These normally busy roads were completely quiet, we were the only car out, if memory serves correctly, for quite a bit. there was almost a romantic feeling to this, a bit of solitude. I enjoyed watching the dark of night yield o the break of day, watching the world wake up. That was what I enjoyed (and still enjoy) when i wake up that early now. The peace and quiet of night, and getting much done (hopefully) while the world still sleeps, then officially starting your day with a feeling that you accomplished a lot already, first thing in the morning.

So, I was not always a morning person, but I almost feel like one now. At least, I can be one. Then again, I work an overnight job, so maybe not completely. But  a lot of what I like about the night shift is the same as I liked about waking up early - that ability to get a lot done while everyone else is still asleep, and then watching the black of night slowly give way. It gets slightly lighter, and you can start to see things in greater detail, although at first it is still shades of gray in a world of gray. But the light picks up, becomes stronger, and the world becomes more colorful. You can see things more clearly and in detail. Often times, the dawn's light bathes the world in a pastel, pinkish hue, and it is truly beautiful at these points, and I am thankful for having had the discipline to get up so early. Eventually, of course, this too gives way to regular daytime, as the sun begins it's journey from the eastern sky to the western sky, before it dips down below the western hills to sleep for the night, before beginning it's bus day again tomorrow.

Of course, I am also a big fan of sunsets. On my weekend jobs, I have taken to watching the sunsets in the evenings. The place is set upon a bluff above a park that the company owns, and this gives out on a wonderful view of the wooded foothills in the west. When the sun sets there, all of the beautiful pastel colors are mirrored in the ponds, and so it becomes quite the colorful palate. It usually only lasts too short, but the memories last much longer! I have seen some beauitufl sunsets there!

Yet, the most beautiful sunset that I ever saw was not there, but in Seattle, in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. Not surprisingly, if you are familiar with the area. When we first arrived there, it was nighttime, and so we could not see anything. But in the morning, when I first stepped outside, I looked to the right, and saw the wonderful, snowcapped mountains of the majestic Cascades. When I looked left, I saw the beautiful waters of Puget Sound, with the snow-clad, jagged peaks of the Olympic Mountains jutting out on the other side of the sound. Beautiful!

It was those same Olympic Mountain range that were such a part of the most breathtaking sunset I ever saw. It got late in Seattle very late in May, and so we ate a late dinner at a restaurant right off of Puget Sound, arriving while it was still very much daylight. There was a basketball game on, a playoff game. The Seattle Supersonics had won the West the year prior, and were trying to get another shot at the championship. The crowd went nuts every time that the Sonics did anything positive, and initially, I was paying attention to this.

But the sun was slowly sinking to the west, right where the Olympic Mountain Range, and Mount Olympic in particular, were situated. As the sun sank down, it bathed the snows of the mountain in a pink light, which were mirrored off the waters of Puget Sound. The sky behind the mountains was amazing, and it was the most picture-perfect sunset that I have ever seen! What made it strange was that no one else seemed to be noticing, so engrossed were they in the silly game. I was glad to pay attention to what really mattered most to me that evening. It is rare when we find something truly beautiful, that we can remember quite vividly years and years, perhaps even decades, later. Here I am, almost fifteen years later, writing about that one magical sunset, just to illustrate how a moment can become immortal. Mt. Olympus seemed such a mythical name for a mountain, and the range that is named after it. These are strikingly beautiful mountains to begin with, but at that moment, they more than lived up to their name!