The Year is Complete!

Please feel free to look back through the 365 days of 2010 sunrises, but "a year of getting up to meet the day" is officially completed. There will be no more new posts.


Thank you so much for visiting.
A one year blog project in which I share a process of transitions: emptying of the nest, reacquainting with my rusty intellect, plowing onward with my first full length book, entering the second half of my first century, and generally reflecting on life.

(see Dec. 29th, 2009 entry for further explanation)

Saturday, October 9, 2010

consistency of dawn

sunrise:  6:52  Devens, MA

I had never heard of Devens, Massachusetts before I came down here for a frisbee tournament this weekend.  This time it is my daughter playing rather than my son. 

As fortune would have it, we came upon a hotel just a stone's throw (well, a long bomb, maybe) from the playing fields.  As I was finishing my circuit around the complex the earliest arrivals emerged from their cars, just before the sun crested the horizon.

This morning's walk reminded me very much of my Florida dawns, when I was there watching N play softball last March.  Hotel near the tournament, sunrise over a stretch of playing fields at dawn, empty stretch of grass preceding the oncoming hordes, and even breakfast with some of the hordes. 

The standard motel fare - belgian waffle maker, juice machine, mini cereal boxes, shriveled looking breads, fruit.  But - the breakfast room was stuffed to the gills with hungry 20-somethings gorging their pre-game bodies before the day's competition.  Slim pickings for the likes of me, but maybe it will calm down later.

J and I got to hang out a bit with T in Boston before we drove down here last night.  We'll see N on the fields today and tomorrow, take the girls out on the town tonight, and drive them both up to Middlebury for a quick Vermont visit tomorrow.


The American flag, flying alone on a lovely Ocotober dawn, is deeply inspiring to me.  Too often it is fraught with partisan overlay, belligerence, the selective syrup of human interpretations dragging it down into a sodden, sticky heap of misunderstanding. 

It is a beautiful, light, flying symbol this morning.  It is our history, our unity, our belief in ourselves as a proud and productive people with a noble spirit. 

Yesterday, at Emerson, T showed us a class exercise where a bunch of her classmates characterized their generation.  Their estimation of themselves is disturbing - "shallow" was the overwhelming assessment.  I realized that that is how they are constantly depicted in the media.  Perhaps there is some truth in that, and perhaps it is also being perpetuated by society - they are becoming what we tell them they are. 

There must be a gentle and noble way to reclaim the beauty of the spirit of the United States of America for tolerant, open-minded, even liberal thinking young people.  Perspective is one thing, but shame in your country is self-annihilating.


Thank goodness for these morning walks.  It is truly a period of calming reflection for me - invaluable during these chaotic comings and goings, travel and logistics.  It is my constant, and it is always - always, a peaceful, quiet, contemplative time of day.  And usually, maybe even dependably beautiful in all conditions. 

I don't know what will happen when this year is over.  It remains a challenge for me, most mornings, to drag myself out from between the enfolding envelope of warmth and slumber that my bed offers.  Even now when dawn is at a very civilized hour for many.  But -- the benefits of dawn walks on my entire outlook are irreplaceable.  I hope I will be able to continue to drive myself out there, at least part of the time.

1 comment:

  1. Hi, Robin.
    It's been awhile since I've had the chance to check out your musings. Gee, what a difference a couple of months can make - 6:52 sunrise.

    On this morning I was walking the beach at Cape May, NJ, at sunrise, thinking of you and your endeavor. It's such a peaceful time but on this day lots of company as a number of people were out to greet the dawn...much different than in June when we were there last. The music from Winged Migration ran through my head as the birds flowed along the coast with the coming of light. I enjoyed your picture of the first arrival at the playing fields as well as your thoughts on country, youth and pride.