Outdoors & Environment

The Sunrise Comes to Me

by Taylor Mardis Katz January 21, 2019
ReadThe Sunrise Comes to Me Photo by Cezary Kukowka

In the space between sleeping and waking, I witness the day unspool in the distance. The nighttime ways of slowness and silence remain in power, as I have yet to pull all the daytime parts of myself together. For now, the day’s requirements remain at bay, waiting for the light before they throw themselves upon me. Soon, I will glance at the list on the table, where the tasks of the day await me—as well as a few from yesterday. Soon, I will put away the bowls and spoons from last night’s meal. Soon, I will be at my desk, where the piled papers, stamps, and notebooks create a small mountain range.

The sunrise comes to me in bands of yellow-pink and ruby-blue.

In wintertime, the cold, crisp air draws sunrise on the sky with a well-sharpened pencil. I move around my house preparing the few items that will shuttle me into daytime: the blue mug with its thick handle, the ground coffee, a small pour of milk warming on the woodstove.

The sunrise comes every day of the year.

As I move around the still-cold house, I glance back to the window above my kitchen sink, which frames the unfolding day. Before the light covers the landscape, I know I still have a bit of time to be unformed, undecided, amorphous. Before the sun comes up, nothing is expected of me except the minor tendings of home: to feed the fire, feed the baby, feed myself coffee and a slice of buttered toast.

The sunrise comes to me differently every day.

Or perhaps it is only I who is different. My own orbit slightly wider, slightly tilted, or a smidgen to the left. The sun and I, we unfurl without judging each other. I stretch my arms to the sky; I fold my body in half; I breathe in and out, feeling my body’s slow uncurling.

The sunrise comes to me very slowly, then all at once.

I can feel when the coffee reaches me, and the possibilities of the day begin to stretch out ahead, like a palette of yet-unmixed colors. But I’ve never been able to discern the moment when the sunrise officially finishes: when I am no longer a witness to the unfolding, when the world has officially risen, when the sunrise has passed, when the day has officially begun.

Shop our Kitchen and Tabletop category to make the most of your early mornings

Shop the story
Leather Notebook
Ezra Arthur
$40.00
Genuine Pyramid Toaster
Jacob Bromwell
$90.00

MORE IN Outdoors & Environment

ReadHow to Make Eco-Friendly Lunches at Work

How to Make Eco-Friendly Lunches at Work

The first time I worked in a corporate office, I noticed how much unnecessary trash we threw...

ReadHow to Press Leaves and Flowers

How to Press Leaves and Flowers

One of my favorite parts of spring and summer are the beautiful colors out in nature: The deep...

ReadPacking Your Backpack for a Hike

Packing Your Backpack for a Hike

When planning a hiking trip, figuring out the best way to pack your backpack is probably not...