New Year Sunrise (Day 392)

It seems fitting to start off the new year, 2024, with a sunrise.  It is cold, so here I sit on my east-facing front porch, in a warm fleece-lined flannel shirt with a blanket and a hot cup of coffee, to welcome the muted orange dawn light of the new year as it filters through the gaps between and above the surrounding planted pine tree line.  It is quiet, except for an occasional hardy songbird, a lowing moo from a neighbor’s cows, a distant rooster crowing, or barking dog.  These are all peaceful, comforting sounds of my rural semi-isolated existence.

With my new early morning work schedule, I see the beautiful sunrise skies on my short commute along the big, cleared tracts on Murhee Road every day.  But it is here, on this front porch that I feel most strongly the warmth of hope and promise that the dawn light infuses into my soul.   

A sunrise is a special thing.  They happen every day, but you have to make an effort to get up early to see one.  They mark the physical transition between the dark of night and the light of day.    For me, they also are symbolic of a change in the condition of the heart and soul during and between the limits of grief.  The sunrise is a daily renewal and reminder of life which cannot be denied by the troubles of mere man.  

Among other things, grief is the process of moving through a long dark night and learning to accept and eventually welcome a new day.  The sunrise is there every day at the appointed time.  We just have to make the effort to arise from our slumber to meet it and take in its beauty and promise!