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Encounters at Sunrise

March 29, 2013

We gathered for the sunrise. Three couples, probably all from different countries. Such, as they say, is America. Such is Miami.

CIMG0690It was cold and I wish I was as warmly snuggled as this canine companion.

 

 

waning moonThe moon was still out, waning. I was reminded of what we learned in Triorigin Theory – the moon reflects the sun; but the sun does not have the moon within it. Praveen and I played around with that idea for a while, watching the birds begin their fly-bys, gathering in frequency as the clouds turned pink, then orange, heralding the turning of the earth towards the sun that we call sunrise.

CIMG0694Suddenly, a plop. Anhinga, my brain thought, all-knowing. But it was a school of leaping fish! Plop. Plop. Plop, they leaped as one, their six-inch bodies plopping in unison. Overhead, ibises at strategic distance from each other appeared to be flying sideways. I say appeared in case someone calls me out on this, but I can swear that they were actually flying sideways, quite high – higher than the other flocks.

Then the anhinga appeared, majestically sailing away from the East, unmindful of the drama that was about to unfold.

SunriseThere’s something about watching the sunset together. Each couple stood or perched on rocks, as one. A glimpse, a hush, a bated breath. You may have seen a thousand sunrises, yet each one is unique. The camera took its photos, the eyes drank in each inch of the rising. Songs flitted through the brain – Here comes the sun…Om bhoor bhuvasvaha; images flitted across the eyes : birds, rays, clouds, rippled water,golden pillar of light. The body seemed to want to go into a surya namaskar and yet take in the subtle tones of light that the camera just could not capture.

Once up, behind those dark clouds, the sun just kept going. It seems impossible that the earth turns that fast and we not feel the motion. Golden hued leaves vied for attention with the golden ripples of the bay.

CIMG0730Then – that first ray of light. God. Creator. The feeling of a miracle. When we finally turned to leave, one of our companions stopped us . She had taken a picture of us and wanted to email it to us. Where is your accent from, she asked us. India, I said, and yours?

Such is America. Or as I remind myself, such is Miami. A miracle every moment.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. March 30, 2013 1:26 am

    Enjoyed the fine description of the mother nature with all her magic.

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