Rise And Shine
John Martin
I often see the sunrise. This calm and quite time of day is part of me, if I think about it I’d say that I miss the sunrise when I don’t see it, feel it, breath it.
The sunrise is always changing, not only from day to day but during each morning as it rises. The horizon appears as a thin line, the water sparkles, the clouds glow, a golden ball emerges. All the while the water, sky, and clouds are changing shape and colour, catching my eye even though my attention is also on the path, plants, flowers, and the bird, frog, and insect calls around me.
I walk over the headland, I see the cliffs glowing in the suns rays, the plants glowing bright green, the water marked by a golden path to the horizon. I walk down from the headland to the beach. The water is cold on my feet and legs at the moment, shifting between 15-17 degrees Celsius as winter departs and springs warmth grows. I walk into the water, my feet feel the liquid sand, smoother than the dry sand on the beach, yet firm and supportive.
I wade deeper and dive under, the water is crystal clear, I can see golden orange rays from the sun dancing on the surface of the water. I swim past fish, whiting and luderick, over vibrant green seagrass and yellow to brown seaweed in a variety of shapes and sizes. A fiddler ray is sitting on the sandy sea floor; I don't commonly observe them. I swim over stretches of sand and seaweed, both are dancing to and fro with the movement of the waves, I too feel the pull of the waves as I continue swimming.
It's a beautiful way to start the day. I think I'll finish the day by watching the sunset.
Author Bio: John is a research scientist and one of the coordinators of The Urban Field Naturalist Project.