She used to see sunrises when she was a teen; she would wait by the river, to see the sky break through grey, blue and magenta. The anticipation was palpable until the sun slowly rose, she would then give in to slumber until the warm glow upon her face would wake her anew.
This photo was taken by a friend and former colleague who is travelling with her partner on a cycling tour in South-East Asia. Arianne and Sebastien are very generous in sharing some of their experiences and sights along the way at Tandem en Cavale on Facebook.
Being a sucker for sunrises and sunsets, I had to write something to one of their stunning photos.
She sits draped in fleece admiring a nature’s morning splendour. The eye could capture only hundreds of shades and nuances…a human lens shooting in slow motion. She smiles with pride. One must witness the slightest changes to appreciate the glory of it all; she felt lured, this frigid morning, by an omnipresence. In reverent silence, she recites her mantra before this sacred panorama.
She sits with mixed feelings, watching the sun set. The wind picks up from le Mont Royale on the rooftop. She is saddened to see such beauty leave her hemisphere. And then she smiles, reminded that as she bows in reverence thinking of her friends on the other side.
As a youth up to my early teens, my family would go camping from May (Victoria weekend) until mid-October (Canadian Thanksgiving). I would literally go for a quick swim about a week after the ice had melted…just to impress my father and he and my sister would take down the tent often in the snow in October.
Every weekend my parents, sister and I would ride up to Isle le Motte, Vermont (on Champlain Lake) to spend a weekend in the fresh air. Friday night when we arrived, would consist of eating split pea soup before going to bed and Saturday we would often have T-bone steak with huge wieners and baked potatoes on the BBQ for dinner.
Thankfully the family that camped next door were our good friends (more like our second family) from our hometown and had three children, the two eldest were teens; so the parents would sit around a campfire and do adult stuff like tells jokes and drink lots of Bloody Mary’s except for my dad who was sober since I was seven and the teens would listen to The Rolling Stones and the Beatles on our turntable….yes, there was electricity that served for our entertainment so we did not whine to our parents we were bored; electricity was only for tacky lanterns lit around the campsite and our record player.
Before starting the fire however, my father would combine the fixings to make home-baked beans, put it all in an earthenware pot and he had purchased a tiny square oven (looked just like a tin box) and dig it in the centre of the ground beneath the bonfire. The beans baked all night long .
New dawn whispers
Sunday breakfast simmers
neath amber ashes