sunrise photo culled from "a year of getting up to meet the day," a yearlong blog from 2010. (Adirondacks, New York State)
During my year of sunrise watching, I’m not sure I ever considered the misnomer. The sun does not rise; it is static (relative to us). It is we who revolve and rotate in and out of its range. And yet, we continue to think in terms of the sun’s hopeful uplift each morning.
This morning the sun’s brilliance hit my face blindingly at about 7:02. Briefly I wished the sun would move out of the way, then I thought, “no, the entire Earth will dip a tiny bit lower and to the right, moving my house with it, so the sun will soon stop blinding me.”
It took about 13 minutes. How weirdly disorienting it was, to picture the ground beneath me, the globe upon which I ride, shifting in space to change my relationship to the sun.
Somehow, I don’t think “earthroll” will ever replace “sunrise.” It feels unstable, like something that might cause motion sickness. Our illusion of groundedness is more comfortable by far. Just another example of how we cling to delusions, even when we know better.
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 249: 180 words, TOTAL = 40,830; 19,170 remaining
Robin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs.