Cadillac Sunrise

This morning I stood on the edge of the Eastern Seaboard high on top of a small mountain.  I rose before dawn and zipped through the dark, the mist, and the fog to ensure I reached the summit before the sun rose.  Light rain pattered.  

I wasn’t the only up at the pre-dawn hour – life was just starting to stir all around.  The rabbit jetting out into the road causing me to hit my breaks was just one sign, as was the fox trotting across just up ahead.  But, I was the only human up on the summit of Mount Cadillac, having cut sleep short to partake in a special occasion – witnessing the sunrise before any other human in the U.S.

I reached the top with time to spare, though the light of the sun had already begun to illuminate the dark morning, partially gracing my strip of planet.  Just enough light to hike from my car to a higher, more eastern vantage point.  And so I stood in this spot and waited.  

And waited.  The rain and wind pelted my back side and I continued to stand on top of a boulder.

Staring into the distance, my hopes were low.  Misty fog enveloped the eastern sky.  And yet I continued to watch as the minutes until official sunrise counted down.  And then in an act of grace from Aeolus, the god of the skies and wind, the fog received puffs of breath from the south.  For a moment the clouds began to break and phantom islands appeared in my eastern landscape.  Then, just as quickly, the fog enshrouded them once again, my glimpse of skies only fleeting.  The reds of sunrise would not be mine today, which is not to say I didn’t witness a sunrise of another kind.  

I got to see the Cadillac Sunrise – the product of the pre-sunrise glow on the slabs of granite making up this peak.  

Let me describe this mountain sunrise.  

Minutes before the sun officially rose, the rock all around me suddenly lit up.  Vibrant pinks, and greens, and blues unexpectedly popped out of the ground.  For a couple of minutes, the mountain itself gave me the dazzling color display of a sunrise, as if to say, “Sorry for the poor visibility today.  Here is your consolation prize to ensure you don’t leave with early riser’s remorse.”

And then the sun was up.  I could now clearly see all around me.  The rain began to subside.  The lichen-covered granite became just rock again.  I took in deep breaths and headed back to my car with a certain giddiness.  The Cadillac Sunrise had just kick started my day.