SUNRISE SILHOUETTE

Sunrise Silhouette, Kiawah, SC

A first light sunrise walk along a deserted sandy beach will cure even the melancholy spirit as the foaming waves break ceaselessly over your bare feet.

Any time is a good time to walk the beach and letting the cool ocean breezes at sunrise invigorate your early morning walk seems to be ideal.  Morning’s first light arrives well before the big combustible globe makes its daily entrance on the eastern horizon. Then as the shining orb nears the horizon, the eastern sky begins to glow with pastels of gold and citron and crimson. If there are low level scattered clouds of vapor droplets on the horizon, they will serve to magnify and reflect and refract the new day’s sunbeams across the sky.

Small Morning Glory blooms open their petals on the surrounding sand dunes. Scattered shells that have been deposited by the receding tides are left as one-of-a-kind treasures for the early morning risers. The empty shell of a large sea crab lies motionless near the water’s edge. Sea birds launch into their daily migrations along the shoreline.  Only after the support players have adequately prepared us for the main attraction will the star of the show begin to rise into our view and within minutes the grand entrance is complete.  My wife Karen and I loved to walk along the beach at sunrise, sometimes together and sometimes apart, depending on who was in the mood for shelling.  

I had briefly stopped and was photographing shore birds scurrying along the receding waves when I noticed a dark silhouette walking toward the rising sun.   Without even giving it much thought at the time, I turned my camera to the east and waited to shoot until the figure walked into the rising sun.  Once I got the image I wanted, I turned back to the shore birds, my lone companions this day. 

That photo accompanying this post turned up in my Facebook memories today.  I took it a few years ago, almost ten years after breast cancer took Karen’s life.  That’s when it caught my attention, as it finally occurred to me that we were the only two on the beach early that morning.  I only saw the dark female silhouette walking away and she left no footprints…

 

CROSSING BRIDGES

Beach Access Bridge, Kiawah Island, SC

Eugene Delacroix has written that “A picture is nothing but a bridge between the soul of the artist and that of the spectator.”  I took this photo as the sun was rising over the eastern shore and moonlight was transitioning to daylight.  I had risen early so that I could relish the experience and possibly capture an image to remember the moment as I approached a beach access bridge.

Bridges are generally constructed to provide passage over obstacles such as rivers, valleys or dense vegetation without disturbing or closing the way underneath.  Some of the earliest bridges were likely stepping stones or fallen trees that enabled our ancestors to easily cross over to the other side.  Most of us have an image of flooding river water rushing under a stalwart bridge that probably inspired Paul Simon to write Bridge over Troubled Water.

Fredrich Nietzsche observed that “Nobody can build the bridge for you to walk across the river of life, no one but you yourself alone.  There are, to be sure, countless paths and bridges and demi-gods which would carry you across this river; but only at the cost of yourself; you would pawn yourself and lose.  There is in the world only one way, on which nobody can go, except you; where does it lead?  Do not ask, go along with it.”  Bridges in dreams are symbols of stability, connection and transition.  “Love is the bridge between you and everything” according to Rumi.

As I stepped onto the beach access bridge that early summer morning, I was transitioning from the chaos of the world around me for just a short while and entering the peace and tranquility of the ocean waves timelessly washing ashore at my feet.  Nothing sooths the soul like a walk on the beach at sunrise as the world around me sailed away on the sea breezes.  And as the concerns of life began to drift out to sea, I reminded myself not to cross those bridges until I came to them.    

CHASING THE SUN HAIKU

Early Risers, Kiawah Island, SC
Swaying Sea Oats, Wrightsville Beach Island, NC

Find Yourself in the Islands

Morning sun rises,
saturating beach and sky,
with glowing red rays.

Morning joggers run,
early risers walk the shore,
others meditate.

Breezy sea oats sway,
sand pipers scurry in foam,
all chasing the sun.

Sit in the warm sand,
listen to the tide roll in,
seek and find yourself.

BOTTLED SUNSHINE

Beach Vino, Wrightsville Beach, NC

Catching Sunshine in a Bottle

Amazing how a civilized glass of bottled sunshine aged by the sands of time compliments a day at the beach.

EMPTY CHAIRS AT EMPTY TABLES

Blue Umbrellas, Wrightsville Beach, NC

Memorial Day, 2015

Phantom faces in the sea mist,
Phantom shadows in the sand,
Empty chairs at empty tables,
Where my friends no longer stand.

There’s a grief that can’t be spoken,
There’s a pain goes on and on,
Empty chairs at empty tables,
Their songs and laughter are now gone.

O my friends, my friends I thank you,
For the good times we shared together,
Empty chairs at empty tables,
Where we’ll meet in a beautiful forever.

(with apologies to Les Miz)

LINEAR GRAFFITI SKIES

Graffiti Sunrise, Wrightsville Beach, NC

It’s always a magical experience to be present for a morning’s sunrise and seeing that sunrise over the ocean simply adds to the experience. The ideal condition for me is to have a scattering of low level clouds on the eastern horizon to refract the long rays of the morning sunbeams.

This morning’s sunrise began like many others with one major exception. As I stood on the edge of the beach, my eye caught the beginning contrail of a jet plane sweeping directly over my sunrise canvas. The atmospheric conditions must have been just perfect to diffuse the vaporous exhaust into perfectly drawn graffiti lines expanding across my line of sight. And unlike the previous windy morning where I saw no contrails, the winds were perfectly still on this new chilly day.

I’ve since learned that a condensation trail will form behind a jet as the exhaust gases cool and mix with the surrounding air if the humidity is high and the temperature is below minus forty degrees Fahrenheit. Under those conditions, water vapor from the jet’s engines and the atmosphere condenses into water droplets which then freeze into snowy particles that morph into a contrail. If the air is supersaturated, the ice particles remain for a much longer time before returning to water vapor and will actually feed off the surrounding water vapor to emulate those high flying wispy cirrus clouds. That was the phenomenon I was observing.

My initial reaction was disappointment in having such a perfect sunrise defaced right in front of my eyes. Then as more morning redeyes ascended into the heavens, a rather extraordinary image began to form with half a dozen brush strokes painted across the skies. Although every sunrise is a unique creation, this one developed into an image that I had never witnessed before this day. The origin of the wispy linear lines may have been man-made, but the final canvas was truly God breathed.

THE TREASURE HUNTER

Sunrise Treasure Hunter, Wrightsville Beach, NC
Sunrise Treasure, Wrightsville Beach, NC

I awoke before sunrise this cool October day, pulled on my jeans and hoodie and made my way down to the lobby for a warm cup of complementary coffee. Sitting on a rocking chair on the main balcony with coffee firmly in hand, I watched the first light of dawn slowly radiate the early morning sky. The ocean’s relentless waves were crashing on shore as a distant hurricane overran the island of Bermuda, creating prime surfing waves and cautionary rip currents just offshore. As the sun’s light began to permeate the darkness, I caught sight of a lone figure slowly wandering down the shoreline. Focusing my telephoto lens, I observed that the man was operating a metal detector in search of valuable treasure buried just under the eroding sand.

Finishing my coffee, I made my way down to the beach. Fortunately the prime time to collect seashells is also the best time to photograph magical sunrises over the ocean. The early bird does indeed get the best seashells and photos. And the timing is even better at low tide and after a major storm, like the present offshore hurricane. I like to stroll near the water’s edge at the shoreline where exposed shells are deposited near the ocean wash. As the eastern skyline begins to glow with pink and blue pastels, the breaking day tests my patience while I await the arrival of the main attraction. That becomes an opportune time for shelling as the back wash recedes amid the bubbling sea foam. Small shore birds scurry along the foam lines efficiently harvesting the miniscule tidbits that were ordered for breakfast delivery.

Of course, it helps to be at the right place at the right time. As I glanced down at the beach drift at my feet, the golden glow of a sea shell that had just arrived on the last wave made its appearance. The marine mollusk had long ago succumbed to the starfish that had bored a fatal hole into its hard protective exoskeleton. The mollusk had secreted calcium carbonate in periodic layers as he aged, creating an expanding, protective outer shell. The mantel surface secreted the building materials both outward and on the edges over the inner surface leaving it sculpted by irregular folds and tubercles. The mollusk’s unique diet determined the varying pigments that created the one-of-a-kind color in the shell.

There’s no guarantee that a shell will still be there after the next advance of the final burst of energy from the onslaught of salt water. And the stranger with the treasure hunter’s metal detector had just passed this way ahead of me, but he was defining treasure differently than I this morning. So I bent over and gently scooped up the island treasure and placed it safely in my hoodie pocket.

It’s difficult to place a value on most things for individuals. Some folks consider an object worthless while others call it priceless. The value can be all about what fits your eye and what you individually treasure. The money cowry shell was widely used worldwide in trade networks and traders could realize gains of 500% when obtaining them from the source. Australian tribes each had their own shell money and considered the other tribe’s shells worthless. Jesus taught us to store our treasures in heaven and not place a lot of value on fleeting earthly stuff because where our treasure resides, there our heart will be also.

And you can always return from a good walk along the beach with the treasure of a revitalized spirit and a good suntan.

WALKING THE BEACH

A Man and His Dog, Kiawah Island, SC

The game of golf has been characterized as a good walk spoiled. And those of us who have played the game can certainly relate, even though there are still many days when all the past grief can be instantaneously forgotten. For instance, when you approach a blind shot into the eighteenth green to discover your ball innocently lying within a foot of the hole. But I can never recall a spoiled walk along the beach.

I have a theory about what mysterious urge draws us to the relentless breaking waves along the shoreline of a sandy beach. After all, our initial nine months of life within our mother’s womb were filled with the comforting rhythm of her beating heart as the embryonic fluid transmitted every sound wave to our developing senses. The sound of the sea instinctively calms our spirit as we come into range of the beach. There’s no violent crashing of driven waves on rocky outcroppings along a serene sandy beach, only the bewitching Siren song that draws us into its spell.

Any time is a good time to walk the beach, but letting the cool ocean breezes at sunrise invigorate your early morning walk seems to be ideal. There are no obstructions like trees, mountains and skyscrapers to impede the new day’s brightening rays of light over the ocean. Morning’s first light arrives well before the big combustible globe makes its daily entrance on the eastern horizon. Ancient cultures like the Egyptians and Mayans literally worshiped the sun, as they were well aware that its light sustained all living organisms on the planet. Most of us humans experience mild bouts of depression if deprived of the sun’s rays for too many successive days. Then as the shining orb nears the horizon, the eastern sky begins to glow with pastels of gold and citron and crimson. If there are low level scattered clouds of vapor droplets on the horizon, they will serve to magnify and reflect and refract the new day’s sunbeams across the sky. Only after the support players have adequately prepared us for the main attraction will the star of the show begin to rise into our view and within minutes the grand entrance is complete. Once again we’ve unconsciously managed to adhere to our planet’s surface as Earth completes another daily spin around on its axis.

As I strolled the beach this Labor Day weekend, the experience once more doesn't disappoint. Walking the beach cleanses the soul and brightens the outlook. Renewed optimism arrives on every breaking wave. Small Morning Glory blooms open their petals on the surrounding sand dunes. Shell treasures that have been deposited by the receding tides are left as one-of-a-kind rewards for the early risers. The empty shell of a large sea crab lies motionless near the water’s edge. Sea birds launch into their daily migrations along the shoreline. A young man arrives with his faithful Labrador and best friend to splash in the water. Joggers and bicyclists enjoy the pristine air sans the pollution of their routine routes through busy urban streets. An elderly couple once more walks hand-in-hand, reliving an experience they’ve enjoyed together for over half a century. A young couple arrives with a baby stroller to begin a new day and a new life as a family. And all of us are connected by a common bond as we are drawn back to our beginnings in God’s eternal presence.