There’s something to waiting for the sun to rise.
I’ve been up for a little while, getting some writing done, sitting on the bench on the flying bridge under the covered slip, watching the glow of today grow along the western horizon.
Starting at pitch black after the setting of the moon this morning, all details now can be seen but no sun yet.
I feel the day is mine. I own it. I was here when it began to arrive and I’ve yet to see another human.
The winds that blew all night, rocking the boats in the slips and anchorage has now calmed and only the sound of the electrical buzz from the dock transformers and a single raven’s occasional call can be heard.
Every time I look up from my screen the sky is a little brighter. What part of the mountain skyline will host today’s sunrise today I wonder.
I wait. And watch. The boat sways, possibly someone awake on the lower deck but they’ve made no sound.
I can see that the clouds from yesterday’s storm are gone. The sky will be blue this morning, although still a pale grey at the moment.
A carp jumps a few boats down.
Steps can be heard on the dock.
A jet passes in the distance. The day is gaining steam.
A second and third raven join in the morning revelry.
A boat powers and leads a second out of the wind break. The fishermen are beginning their hunts.
The bangs and clanks of life begin to echo across the waters. The day is beginning throughout the marina. Others have come aware of the new day but how many are aware that this day started hours ago for me?
They may share it but this day is mine to savor from its beginning.
The sun breaks, noticeably a little further north than last time I watched it.
Good morning day. I’m so happy to have you join me.