EIGHT MINUTES IN TIME

EIGHT MINUTES IN TIME

Watching the sunrise at the beach has been a passion of my husband’s throughout his life. On the other hand, I have always been a sleep enthusiast, especially once I have arrived at this pleasant state of nothingness. I had not given him the opportunity to share with me this incredible transformation of nature ... that is,  until now.   
 
My life has been forever changed - by  eight minutes in time. You can wait for hours but its still just eight minutes.

All of the creatures know and respect the coming of the new day. There is excitement all around you, but you do not know from where it is coming. Is it coming from your own anticipation? Or is it a feeling of natures' combined anticipation that envelopes you and makes you a part of nature itself.

6:00 a.m. sitting on the beach to watch the sunrise. Do you know that it gets light outside before the sun ever comes up? Everyone does, but what an awesome time. When you first see the light of day, it brings with it sight of everything that is before you and the vision of all that is not. Then, one lone bird makes a sound. Its almost as if the bird is appointed to say to everyone “wake up”!. Seconds later all the creatures are singing,  Its loud and its constant, but beautiful.  First just the bird.

Sitting and watching, almost as if I were watching a secret ceremony of nature, I saw the sun broaching the horizon, the brightest part of the sky. At that time, all the sounds that I was hearing so loudly became quiet once more; almost as if they were bowing their heads in silent prayer. The prayer must be over now because the sun has risen and when you snap out of your astonishment of being mesmerized, you realize the presence of other people. People who have come out of their cottages to either watch the sun come up or jog or all who are fortunate enough to be at this place at this time to come together and watch the rising of the sun.

I want to shout to let them know they do not want to miss that prayer of nature;  But I remain silent; as I have for eight minutes.
 
 
  By Amy Hall