It was 5:30 when I woke. As I lay in bed trying to decide if I wanted to stay tucked in or just go ahead and get up, I realized that I had never experienced sunrise at the lake by myself. After snatching a pair of shorts and a tee shirt from my bag, I tiptoed out of the bedroom I was sharing with my daughter and her husband. I dressed, grabbed a blanket from the back of the sofa, and made a quick cup of coffee in the Keurig.
Because it was still very dark, I carefully picked my way down the narrow outdoor stairs to the porch. I chose the most comfortable chair, nestled in, and propped my feet on the ottoman. I then settled the plush ivory-colored blanket around my shoulders and upper arms. As I wrapped my hands around the warm mug of coffee, inhaling it’s rich aroma, I realized that my eyes had adjusted to the early morning. The sky was in inky blue-grey, the same hue as the still waters of the lake. An occasional bird sang out.
Within ten minutes, there was a perceptible lightening of the sky, and now I could make out a wispy mist hovering above the surface of the water, curling upward in places. A fish jumped, or else a turtle slid into the water, because there was an occasional splash. But other than my coffee sips, it was mostly silent.
A pale pink appeared in the sky to my right, eastward, and the sky above was now a deep royal blue, the lake still black. As if on cue with the sunrise, the cormorants in the trees of the island across from me began to wake and stir, making their distinctive grunting sounds, like a family stumbling to the kitchen in the morning, grumbling their greetings. One cormorant, then another, left their roosts on the pine tree where they had spent the night. Evidently deciding it was time to leave, the entire flock then lifted from the trees and streamed out across the now dark azure sky. The air was so still that I could hear the sound of their wings beating.
And now the sun was lighting up the underside of streaky clouds with tangerine, and the pine trees caught some of that color and glowed a pale orange. An early morning hummingbird buzzed at the feeder, and because the newly risen sun’s light was at just the right angle, his ruby throat gleamed and glinted as he drank.
The sky was now glowing in shades of apricot and mauve and lilac, the lake a deep olive. A lone great blue heron squawked as she flew just above the lake’s surface to her fishing spot, and the fish crows began their banter.
The sound of the door opening interrupted my reverie, and I heard my daughter softly call, “Mom? Are you out here?”
“Yes,” I replied, “Come join me.”