Saturday, December 5, 2015

Break Forth, O Beauteous Light

It had all the promise of a summer sunrise.  When I stepped outside with the dogs this morning, the sky was nearly clear and a crescent moon stood out against a starry landscape.  I packed my gear and headed to the beach to catch the sunrise.

I set up as usual.  Camera on tripod, beach chair open, and anticipation high.  As I sat down and began the twenty minute wait until sunrise, I could see clouds had occluded the stars and the moon had taken on a hazy cast.

Disappointment mounted as an unwelcome cloud bank filled the horizon.  I wondered whether I would be able to catch a sunrise on this particular day, even though the forecast had called for clear and sunny skies.

Being at the beach was enough, however.  I enjoyed the the solitude of being alone without the dog walkers I'm accustomed to seeing on typical summer mornings.

Beach grass swayed in the cool breeze.  The benches were empty and golden leaves sprinkled the beach.  It is December 5th, after all.

While the time for the sunrise had come and gone, the sound of waves crashing on the beach lulled me into enjoying this rare, late fall moment.

I could see a show developing behind the cloud bank, however, as I turned my focus back towards the water and the Eastern horizon.  Excitement and hope grew in me with each golden hue that appeared.

The cloud bank started to come apart and I was teased with occasional glimpses of the sun.  I was going to see a sunrise after all!  Although a bit later than I'd planned.

As the full sun freed itself from the clouds, I was reminded of the words from Bach's famous hymn poem:  "Break forth, O beauteous heav'nly light; And usher in the morning."  It just seemed to fit the anticipation, dashed hopes, renewed excitement, and pure joy I felt as this particular sunrise evolved.


  1. Beauteous light, indeed! Lovely series, Karen. Glad you hung in there until the sun came out!

  2. Thanks, Jan. I'm glad I hung in there too. If it wasn't for the lovely solitude and hum of the surf, I'd have packed it in much earlier.