Slivers Of Light

What do I wish I could experience more often? Slivers of light. Little cracks in the horizon breaking up an otherwise cloudy world. Tiny spaces that let the golden rays of sunrise illuminate the landscape for only minutes before the clouds descend and the color is drained from the scene. Most of these I miss, out of place by a quarter of a degree of latitude or less. Sometimes they nearly catch me off-guard as I unexpectedly stumble across them. Every once in awhile, they can be predicted.

The edge of the storm was suppose cross the coast just after sunrise that morning. As I hoped, the sky was already thick with clouds as it became light enough to see the landscape. On the far eastern horizon there was a crack of clearness: a leftover scrap of the previous pleasant evening. The clock ticked past sunrise and the warm light skimmed across the dunes, building in intesity. It lasted for only a few minutes and then clouds won the battle. 30 minutes later it began to pour.

Sunrise on the Umpqua Dunes, Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area