The Line of Fire

alas, not today's - but a reasonable facsimile

I always expect it to rise behind the clouds. A fog advisory is in place this morning, though no fog is in evidence. Ter dropped me in the village on her way to work so I could get my flânerie in early, and as I hiked back the way we’d come, it occurred to me that if I kept straight rather than winding my way through the little side streets, I might reach Dallas Road in time to see the sun come up.

The fog advisory, however, was not issued in vain. A solid bank of steel blue cloud lay thick atop the water, obscuring Port Angeles entirely and allowing the Olympics to play peek-a-boo with their snowy caps. Above the mountains, the sky was smattered with cotton ball clouds of pink, coral, and red. I walked toward the shifting light. The robust red brightened to shades of orange and gold. Though the sun would rise behind the fogbank, the sky above was open so I reckoned I’d actually see it once it hit altitude.

Sunlight, however, is like water. It finds cracks and chinks invisible to the human eye. As I reached Clover Point, the light had intensified enough to convince me that the sun was already up and I stood directly across from where it would peer over the fog. I stopped, faced the bank of cloud separating me from the rising sun, and waited.

Maybe a heartbeat later, a glittering gold spark popped between the ocean and the cloud. My eye dropped to it, my mind surprised into questioning, Is that it? A thin red line leaked outward on either side of the spark, bleeding red against the cloud as if the horizon had been cut. I’ve seen that spark a hundred times by now, yet I stood amazed as it blazed ever brighter then began to fade. I stared until it was swallowed by the fog, then I thanked the universe for the show and continued my walk home.

I kept looking over my shoulder, though, waiting for the topmost arc to breach the cloudbank’s surface, and when it did, the sky turned pure gold. It was gorgeous and miraculous and I am so glad that my wish to catch the sunrise was granted so willingly. Even when I doubted I would get my favourite moment, I got it anyway.

That’s a gift.