A Breath of Fresh Air

I was late for work this morning... purposefully. I couldn't help it.

Mondays and Fridays. It never fails. I'm up before the sun. Having your shift start at 6:45 does that to you. It has its pros and cons. Cons being that no one should be up if the sun isn't up. Pro: a different sunrise twice a week. Today was no different. As the sun rose, I did my best to keep my eyes on the road, but they were quite disobedient and kept straying back towards the east. It made me think...

It's almost August. Which means another year has almost come to term and it's time for my annual tradition: watching the sun rise early one morning, at the beach, to reflect on the past year and welcome a new one with uncertainty of the new one. This tradition is a new one that started three summers ago. My friends and I decided to hit the beach early the last day of summer to grasp the final moments of summer before we became seniors and life forever changed. It's hard to believe that this will be the fourth year. This year is different. Every year has been different, but this one especially. I knew last summer would be the last grasp at it being the same, and I was right. Almost all of the friends I went with last year either are or will be married; some are gone. It's a weird thought, but life goes on... I'm debating how to do it this year. I'm glad I committed to making it a habit 'til the day I die last year, or I might not have done it this year, but I'm committed. I may or may not be committed to how it's executed this year. We'll see. I have a couple options this year: here or there; alone or with a friend; beach or Garden. Maybe I'll just do it twice, so I can cover all the options.

The closer I got to work, the louder the beach called and the grander the sunrise became. I couldn't take it any longer. The colors were soft yet overwhelming: purples with more gray than blue, pale yellows, and a clear sky-blue. I changed my route and headed toward the beach. I felt as if I shouldn't have been there as I breathed in the salty air that shocked me as it gave me life again, snapping my pictures, reveling in God's beauty. It was the first time I had truly been back to the beach. I've only been back three other times: 2 were at night and one at dusk. I think I've been avoiding it. As I finished my photos and realized I had to get to work, I walked by a kindred spirit. He too had been called by the beach this morning to soak it in and pathetically try to capture God's glory on film. We didn't say a word, but we understood each other. As he saw my work attire, he smiled knowingly and waved as I reluctantly left.

I pulled into the parking lot: 6:46 am. Joyfully late. Renewed by my Savior and a breath of fresh air.