Purple Sunrise

Looking back on notable events on this day in history, here are three:
1620—the Pilgrims set sail from England on the Mayflower.
1959—the first episode of the long running television show Bonanza aired.
2014—a doozy of a sunrise was viewed in Everett, Washington. As an observer of this mesmerizing event, I went home and wrote the piece below.

Purple Sunrise

Today’s pre-dawn sky was the color of eggplant against mountains the shade of a nearly black plum, finally ready to eat. At 5:50, it was still an hour until sunrise, but the hint of color brought with it a hint of the day’s promise.

We’ve been a one-car family for the past three months and occasionally I commute with Tom the 33 miles to his office so that I can have the car for the day. Then I return to pick him up in the afternoon. It’s not a great longterm solution, but it works for now.

I’ve witnessed a lot of sunrises with my husband this summer, and that has been worth the inconvenience.

When we began our treks together summer had just begun and the sun was rising about 5:15. As we drove, the sky was already bright enough to read in the car without a light. But who could read? Colors streaked the sky. Horsetail clouds formed wispy patterns around us. On many days fog lay just above the ground over the farmland and along the slough in Everett. Some days were so glorious that I forgot to breathe. Each trip found the sun rising a few minutes later than the previous trip, providing us a tangible reminder of nature’s clock.

Sunrise was 6:49 today. I couldn’t get enough of it.

How often we’ve remarked that we should have had a camera on our morning trips to work, but even if we should have had one, you can’t exactly stop along the freeway to snap a shot.

After dropping Tom off today I was determined to find a spot where I could pull off and get a good, long look.

If you know Everett, perhaps you remember the overpass by the Evergreen Cemetery which takes you from South Broadway (overlooking Lowell), across the freeway, then down onto Broadway. It has not been kept up — that is, there are lots of weeds along the sides of the road — but it is still in use, offering a great view of the Cascades and the Snohomish River valley. It’s not wide enough to pull over but there was no other traffic so I stopped momentarily to drink in the view. The sun had still not risen but the sky was turning orange and the clouds, light grey puffs that scattered across the sky, were lit from underneath. Fog settled in the low places, faint enough to see forms — trees and buildings — in the distance.

I moved on.

Even the sewage treatment plant just north of Everett was radiant in the moments before the sun appeared above the mountains. Pinks and yellows and oranges and purples reflected in the retention pond. The details in the mountains above were losing their clarity, thanks to the brightening sky.

By the time I turned off I-5 onto Hwy 530 the sun had fully risen. I was too far north by now to see it until, heading west, it glared in both my rearview mirror and my side mirror, temporarily blinding me. I pulled into our driveway, awash in wonder. I had watched the sun rise and listened as the heavens silently declared God’s glory. What a way to start the day!

•••••

Ginger