And so the day begins ...
Other times, when I pull the curtains back, there is something more waiting for me.
The work I do (aka, my "day job") is writing computer software. It is all very logical, methodical, and relatively predictable. Even when I am troubleshooting a problem, there is really not any creativity involved. There is a set number of variables to be traced; it's a problem in logic. It's all very cut and dried.
If I look at the sunrise from that perspective, it is not in the least bit remarkable.
A meteorologist could tell me the exact list of conditions that have caused the clouds to form on this morning. I don't know the exact terminology, but I do know it has to do with the relative humidity, the air temperature, and the dew point. Wind conditions, barometric pressure - even the local geography all have an effect. At some point these variables will combine in such a way that clouds will form, and that this is a (relatively) predictable event. No magic, no voodoo, no miracle. It's all very cut and dried.
Yet the play of the sunlight against the clouds inevitably brings me to a full stop in my morning routine. Part of it may simply be that the great majority of mornings, the sun simply comes up. In the clear desert air there is a gradual lightening of the sky behind the eastern hills, and suddenly the sun is risen, a glaring ball of fire. So perhaps my appreciation is simply the uncommon nature of the scene before me.
But there's more to it than that. Knowing that the presence of the clouds is a logical conclusion of the meteorological conditions doesn't explain the way the sun silvers the upper edges, the rays fanning out across the sky. It doesn't explain the way it makes me feel. The fact that it is an uncommon occurrence causes me to wonder why it's happening on this particular day, in this particular way. Gazing out the front window I have a sudden realization that this was exactly what I needed this morning, that it fills a space and a need that I wasn't even aware of having. As the sun peeks up over the tops of the clouds, a part of me understands that I am seeing something that will never occur again in exactly the same way. It becomes more than a sunrise - it is magic, or voodoo; or simply, a miracle.
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