Rants & Essays
By Douglas Rosich
I wanted to write you - because of a sunrise I was
privileged to witness. The main reason why I got to see it is because you kept
me up so late. Don't get me wrong- I was an enthusiastic and happy
You see - I don't often see the sunrise. I hate it. As soon
as the sky starts to lose its blackness, and a twinge of blue starts to creep
in - something inside me says "you've been up WAY too late, damnit" and I will
literally stop whatever I'm doing to run for the covers. I guess I figure if I
can get to sleep before the sun rises, I can trick my body into thinking it got
a good night sleep. In any case - I have probably seen at most 10 sunrises in
my life. Probably less.
But YOU kept that blind drawn - and I lost track of the
time. And when I was finally on my way the sky was hardly dark at all.
Traveling was amazing. I've *never* seen the city so quiet - like I had it to
myself. Literally not a soul out driving yet. I saw one man on foot.
As I crossed the Mass Ave. bridge, the view was gorgeous.
The Charles was lit up bright orange and shimmering. And the downtown buildings
were just black silhouettes - backlit by the orange sky. The sun was right
behind them, and still below the horizon.
As I reached the upper deck of 93, I was high enough to see
the horizon, the sun was just cracking over it. It seemed SO bright - and clear
and sharp. Not sure why. Not like those sunsets on the west coast - where the
thin haze/fog over the ocean seems to filter and mask the piercing light -
which I saw that morning. It was very brilliant.
All I had to do was look to the right - and for my 20 minute
drive I got to see it grow from a sliver to a full ball above the horizon. By
the time I got home the sky was blue again, only a slight hint of dawn darkness
remained. And to make it a perfect morning, as I walked to my door there was a
chatty crow talking to me. Really just cawing away from his tree far above me.
"Caw Caw Caw - wait! Dont go inside yet. I'm not done yet." So I stood and
listened for a while.
And then, off to bed.