For several months, my morning ritual of photographing sunrises in a four-foot-square space in a nearby field has been an escape from the loneliness of my house rather then a sanctuary to replenish my spirit. Oh, how I long to pitch a tent and just stay out there and never ever go back home.
That being confessed, the three sunrises I witnessed over the past week have been particularly striking. “FOG,” “SMOKE” and “FIRE” are how I referred to them in my journal.
FOG
Despite very dense and dangerous fog, I stubbornly and stupidly drove out to my vantage point last Friday, March 18. Unbeknownst to me, an acquaintance photographed me (see above photo) in my four-foot-square space and posted it on his Facebook page (which kind of pissed me off). Following are three of the photos I took that morning:
SMOKE
Tuesday, March 22, marked the last day our beloved friend, Jan, spent in the bardo. I couldn’t help but think of Jan’s ascension in these series of photos from that morning:
FIRE
The sunrise on Wednesday was an evanescent fire in the sky. Two months earlier, I had seen, “The Tragedy of Macbeth” starring Denzel Washington and while watching this sunrise was reminded of these lines said by Macbeth after learning of the death of Lady Macbeth: “Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and is heard no more.”
“Whatever,” I thought. “Jan sure as hell was no walking shadow or poor player. I’ll hear her forever.” I tend to spout off at God when I’m out there. She doesn’t mind.
These last four photos capture just 32 minutes of our lives on March 23. “The world is beautiful place to be born into,” writes the poet, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, “if you don’t mind a touch of hell now and then just when everything is fine because even in heaven they don’t sing all the time.”
I’m so relieved because I can’t sing worth a damn. I’m just hoping that heaven will have sunrises that look like this. Also, that I will have access to a huge library.
The tree — particularly in the first photo in the “Smoke” sunrises — thinks its a chimney.
The fog photos are mysterious, almost apocalyptic. They appeal to me visually the most. They set a mood for me.
Thanks, Adrienne. Fog is mysterious and often matches my mood.
As you know, I went out this morning. Unlike last Friday, there were no fog warnings, but a mile away from my home, I encountered incredibly dense fog. I probably should have turned around, but I was in the thick of it by then, so drove on at 15 mph, slowing down every so often because I lost sight of the center yellow line as well as the white line on the edge of the road. It was harrowing. I had to wait two hours for the fog to lift so I could drive back home.
However, I got some beautiful photos. I’ve never seen light like this. I’ll post about it some time.
Oooooo! Stunning! The fog / tree photo is one of my favorites. Another way to think of the smoke / tree photos is that Jan’s spirit entered that tree so that she might see you every day. She is everywhere.
That fog/tree photo is one of my favorites as well.
I’ve been pondering what name I would give that tree since we’ve been together for a while and now I have one, thanks to you: JAN! She’s still here!
Fire can be very Holy: as when the Holy Spirit descended on the disciples. Sounds like you experienced that. The 7 am shot is really wonderful!
Amen, bro.
The “fire” was gone so quickly! I’m grateful to have captured it. Thanks for appreciating these images . . . and the reminder of the holiness of fire. No wonder I think of this small place as my sanctuary — and escape — but most often, my sanctuary.
FYI — it was a year ago today that I spent the day in the hospital after experiencing heart attack symptoms in the middle of the night. It was eventually diagnosed as a “severe panic attack.” Still, I had to see a cardiologist, take a stress test, blah, blah, blah. My heart is fine.
Three weeks after the panic attack, I had MOHS surgery on my nose to remove more basal cell cancer. Four months later, a knee upgrade.
So far this year, no hospitalizations. I’m keeping my fingers and knees crossed.
Fog is holy. Smoke is holy. Fire is holy. You with the sunrise is holy. Being with Jan’s spirit is holy. Sometimes we do indeed catch the Holy Spirit. Mostly we miss her. Thanks for inviting us to holy ground.
You are welcome, Charlotte.
“Holy ground.” I’m going to try and not be so dismissive about it . . . like I’m doing it a favor by showing up. Duh. Quite the contrary. xoxo
Stunning! The rising sun and tree in the midst is also my favorite of all of these beauties. We had a sunrise-in-the-mist morning here a bit ago, and it was profoundly stilling to experience. The shining through the mist–silence was the only possible response.
Wish you could have been with the stillness this morning, Carol. I’ve never been in fog so dense. Driving to my vantage point was so arduous, I wanted to scream.
Once I got there and stepped out . . . you’re right . . . silence was the only possible response. I’ll post some of the photos from this morning next week. xoxo