27
Aug
11

sunrise, saturday, august 27, 2011 (one of those inspirational hallmark® moments that we all wonder “who buys this stuff”, like we’d never, but still can’t help ourselves when it’s actually happening in front of us, and can’t help but admire and stand in awe of it anyway)

it starts innocently enough.  you set out in the morning with the intent to capture the sunrise, not only from your usual vantage point but also from the other side (eastern) of the hill you live on.

you’ve (wisely) put billy in his stroller and with joey on leash you make that first curve and see the far hills start to shimmer with the golden light of dawn (i am not guaranteeing that i will not resort to the occasional usage of well-worn descriptives, so hold on, dear reader — or look away if you must, i care not, for as long as man has watched the eastern sun bring the day to his world, he has thought these thoughts, my only hope as i type is that i will come upon some new way of expressing this moment.)

and then old sol starts to push up above the horizon, rays of light the burst of horns announcing his arrival (i often think of those rays at this very moment as the horses pulling apollo’s chariot, do you not?)

this is the way you make an entrance should anyone ever ask you:  tease your audience (think gypsy rose lee) with just enough of what will be to stop them from chattering, clearing their throats, and blowing their noses, so that all of their attention is focused on you, and then i recommend taking a deep breath, all the while resisting the urge to pop through the curtain in all of your liquid, molten pour of yellow, gold, ochre,  and hot white splendor and then just when you think they might be turning blue from holding their breath, you step through the curtain and stun them with your diamond brilliance.  the shock of which…

…forces them to avert their eyes–even for the briefest of seconds so that they may try (failing, of course) to regain some sense of decorum and perhaps stand a little straighter, adjust their bow-tie, brush off their lapel in a gesture designed to hide the fact that they are actually wiping the drool off their chin.

you see, once you’ve made that entrance, all eyes will be on you, people jostling for position to capture a moment of your brilliance so that later that day (minutes, hours, maybe even tomorrow) they will say, “i was there when the sun rose.  i saw its magnificence.  you would not believe what a singular moment it was, i wish you had been there to share it with me, because words fail.”

and now, as you stand there, mouth agape, you realize that the crowd has regained its voice and a tumultuous song of praise (this then, that hallmark® moment) has burst forth from the very essence of their being (you would not recognize the language, for it is the language of the soul.)

and you know that for at least one tenth of a second or perhaps one heartbeat, you had witnessed a miracle (the one everyone is always nattering on about.)

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© Robert Patrick, and Cultivar, 2008-2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts, photographs and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Robert Patrick and Cultivar with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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