The Sun Rises Every Day Even Though I May Not See It
And that doesn’t bother me
Our cottage perches on the southern slopes of a mountain and this denies me the pleasure of watching a sunrise or a sunset.
The rough terrain of bushveld, thorn trees, snakes, dolomite rocks and mountains offers no opportunity to travel on foot or by car (which I don’t have). But I can savor the approaching sunrise indirectly.
The first sign of a new dawn is the avian chorus greeting its arrival.
Then the sky turns blue as the sun, like a dimmer switch, slowly rotates to full power and casts its glow across the valley below. Pink hues illuminate the distant mountains — provided there’s no camouflage of cloud or mist to hide this wondrous spectacle.
Yesterday morning was mystical.
We’d endured three days of unseasonal autumn thunderstorms accompanied by heavy downpours and hail. This time of year used to be warm and dry here on the highveld, but the summer rains forgot their role and lingered longer than welcome. (I put that down to climate change.)
I wish I’d had a camera to capture the morning mist across the valley.
The unseen sun rose in the east while the mist descended further and reduced visibility to around twenty meters, with…
