Thursday, April 25, 2013
A Thin Golden Strip
Somewhere between night and day there is but a thin golden strip of permeating light.
It is quiet in the way nature had intended. It is the dawn of January 1, 2007. I sit atop Mary's Rock overlook in the Shenandoah valley with four of my closest friends. The search of sunrise is nearing its end as the amber glow ushers in a brand new year. As I look back to the West I can see the dark shroud of night retreating off into the distant mountains. I am literally watching the year 2006 vanish away with the morning fog that drapes the very mountains we wait upon. This is the time we start anew. In these short days the long years seek for atonement for the memories they have engrained.
In mere moments the first etching of sunlight blazes itself unto the new morning. It is the metaphysical embodiment of rebirth. While the cold winds remind us that we are in the dead of winter, it is the contrasting warm star on the horizon that reminds us of life. I could easily daydream, but am found completely engulfed in this place and time. It is seemgingly a place between time. There are no other worries and no distractions. As my finite human form is sihloutted on the grandeur of the mountaintop, it comes as a pleasant reminder of how small we are on the scope of something eternal. We are but a vapor released into the infinite expanse of space and creation. Even the very sun that enamors us will be but a fading glimmer in several billion years. It is only when looking into the eyes of forever that you acknowledge the urgency of living right now.
As the sun rises higher, it is a reminder that this day too shall pass into the chronicles of yesterday. However, as I take one last look at the small towns below I feel a sense of catharsis. A quiet peace in knowing that however small we may be, we are still of great significance. Until times requires it reliquished, every moment is ours to hold onto, and to grasp tightly.
Keep a weather eye on the horizon.