There is nothing quite like lacing up my shoes and zipping up my wind jacket in the dark, early hours of an October morning to head out for a crisp run on empty streets, hearing only the rhythm of my footsteps and breathing as the sun rises in bright shades of pink, orange and yellow. Indeed, runs like this are one of my favorite things about autumn. Having a vacation from work this week has allowed me to have several runs alongside the sunrise in the last few days, and the views have been absolutely spectacular.
Being a morning runner, autumn and winter typically mean running in the dark, especially as we near the end of the year and the sun rises later with each passing day. Indeed, on working days, my runs are complete long before the sun comes up, and I catch glimpses of the orange glow of dawn only in the rearview mirror as I drive to work. This week has been different, and I have been able to run a bit later and cherish the morning sunrise, each a bit different from the last.
When I stepped outside on Monday morning and looked up at the sky, I saw streaks of light pink stretching across the clear dawn and went back into the house to get my camera. With Frieda attached to my waist via her leash, I headed to the riverbank to try to capture the colors.
The river was calm that morning, smooth as glass, creating a gorgeous reflection of light on the surface of the water. I stood at the side of the river for a few short minutes, feeling grateful that I had left the house when I did, for the colors soon disappeared, the moment gone.
Seeing the sunrise on Monday inspired me to try to capture more sunrises this week.
On Tuesday morning, the water was a bit more active.
I missed Wednesday’s sunrise because of an appointment that required me to leave the house in the dark, but I made a point to get out again on Thursday morning to see what awaited me.
Although with the weekend yet to begin and thus two days remaining before work calls again, today, Friday, is my last official day of vacation. Right on cue, as if to celebrate the end of a wonderfully relaxing and peaceful week at home, the sky offered a phenomenal spectacle this morning, a finale of sorts, and unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.
My mother used to tell me that a pink sky means that the angels are baking. I’m not sure what they were baking this morning, but clearly it was something breathtaking.
Within the span of five minutes, these warm rays of dawn faded, and I knew that the sun would soon begin to peek above the horizon. Wanting to capture the sunrise from a different location, I quickly dropped Frieda off at home, and as fast I could, ran to a spot along the river, about half a mile away as the crow flies; two miles in running distance, to capture the start of the new day.
Through its natural light and color, there is something intrinsically powerful to me about a watching the sun rise… a reminder that the world, including me, is granted a fresh start every day, marked with an indescribable beauty and warmth and present just long enough to remind us to hold dear such moments before they vanish forever.
Thank you for reading!