4.3.24
You should have seen that sunrise
With your own eyes
It brought me back to life

I am an absolute sucker for a good sunrise.

And really, as far as sunrises go, good is the baseline, and they get better from there. The only bad sunrises are the ones I don’t see. And clouds aside, that’s on me.

This morning’s sunrise was spectacular. It heralded what had better be the last big snowstorm of the year.

The eastern sky burned orange from as I walked my dog. I convinced her to cross the street with me so I could get a picture. It was the sort of sunrise that begged to be shared.

As usual, the photo didn’t do the sunrise justice. It’s decent enough, but not the same as seeing it in person.

Thinking about that reminded me of 3×5, a song from John Mayer’s first studio album, Room For Squares. It’s a song about the struggle between experiencing a moment and documenting a moment. The opportunity to create a memory versus creating a photograph.

This morning’s sunrise — the moment I chose to capture — was worthy of documentation for me. Its beauty and raw power outweighed the struggle I felt getting out of bed this morning after a rough day few days. The timing of it all was perfect. If I’d taken Ziti outside a couple minutes earlier, I wouldn’t have seen the brilliance of color at its peak. And if I’d gone out half a minute later, it would have been gone.

But with fleeting things, sometimes the urge to document them leads to missing out on them. Ever tried to take a picture of a hummingbird at a feeder? There’s a decent chance that by the time you get your phone or camera out and are ready to snap a photo, the subject is gone. It can be that way with sunrises and a million other things too.

Sometimes the better option is to soak in in, appreciate the thing on your own or with a companion, than to have a trophy of the moment.