One Morning In Maine

My first morning in Maine.  My first sunrise.  I waited in anticipation. Gradually I sensed the black of night shifting toward the new light of dawn - and like the title of a song we sing in our church, "Morning Has Broken".
The sky in the east didn't appear promising when I looked out my van window at 5:45 AM on that Thursday in September but I grabbed my coffee and camera and went out to sit on a rocky ledge directly behind my campsite.  This campsite is situated on an entrance to a small inlet in Birch Harbor, Maine.  The ocean pounded the coast about 1/4 mile away where I camped last year but this year I'm in a calm, quiet place  Maybe this was meant to be, I need calm, I need peace.  I need to sink down in quiet  for at least small periods of time during this vacation.
I waited and my waiting was rewarded with a magnificent sunrise.  Slowly the sun rose from the ocean.  The sky changed from soft pale shades of lavender and pink to vibrant, almost overwhelming shades of purple, orange, pink and yellow.
I ran cautiously over the rocks trying to capture it all with my camera.  I wanted to preserve it and savor it for years to come.  What I saw in those moments were gifts. They were additions to my basket of treasured Maine memories. The rocks in front of me led to the water which was lit by a path of gleaming sunlight  A loon played in that path - he would sit, then dive and then sit again.  The path of light, beyond the loon, bounced off a point of land - land with rocks and tall, broad, stately jack pines.  Lobster boats crossed back and forth across the path - they would stop, check a trap and then move on.  The path led out past another finger of land and then to that amazing ball of fire, the rising sun.
I realized that, as I sat absorbed in all the splendor of this sunrise, another natural phenomenon was taking place.  The sea was also beginning to rise.  The tide was coming in - coming in with grace and with a visible determination and strength.  The sea climbed the rocks toward my toes.  The seagulls called, the crows yelled, the loons sang and the water quietly began to cover the huge granite ledge that was my vantage point.
I could see the homes that are a part of Birch Harbor.  I could see the seaweed swaying as it was moved by the gentle waves - seaweed that would soon be invisible - hidden by the slow movement of the rising sea.
The tides have intrigued me during my visits to Maine and watching this tide come in and watching this sunrise and watching all that was before me belonging to this coastal environment - I sat in awe, amazement and peace.     Written in Birch Harbor, Maine 2007