Sunday Morning

I caught my breath and walked on, with a rising sense that glory was all around me. Only at twilight can an ordinary mortal walk in light and dark at once—feet plodding through night, eyes turned up toward bright day. It is a glimpse into eternity, that bewildering notion of endless time, where light and dark exist simultaneously.

—  Margaret Renkl, Late Migrations: A Natural History of Love and Loss 


Photo: DK @ Daybreak. 6:47 a.m., January 16, 2022. 9° F, feels like 0° F. Calf Pasture Beach, Norwalk, CT. More photos from this morning here.

Walking. As a floating, fluffy daisy seed.

6:25 am. 5° F, feels like Antarctica. Wind gusts up to 31 mph. Dorothy Parker’s: “What fresh hell is this?

Cut me some slack people, I know that I’ve used her line many times in my posts, but it’s the only jingle that captures this moment. Many moments these days actually.

You know the drill. Cove Island Park morning walk. @ Daybreak.

I pull into the parking lot. And there I Sit, with the car running, the heater blowing.

I give myself a little pep talk. “Come on DK. Come on. A couple of snaps and back in the car. “ A wind gusts slam the car. I shift in my seat.

I see my middle-aged runner friend in the distance. She sees me in the car, and waves. Good God Man. Have you no pride? I yearn for those days when little would stop me.

I admire the 4’ Something Mighty-Mite, and her short choppy strides as she pushes her way against the polar wind.

And there’s me. 3/4s of the way through Highsmith’s Diary. “As Merely a floating, fluffy daisy seed. Now you have it, now you haven’t, now you have. No, it’s gone.”

I can’t get out. I just can’t.

I check my watch. 30 minutes to sunrise.

I pull out of the lot and drive to Calf Pasture Beach. Seeking inspiration.

And I find it.

I walk out to the end of the boardwalk.

The sun rises, urging the mist up over the water.

Frostbite circles my fingertips. And I snap, and snap and snap.

The floating, fluffy daisy seed. Now you have it. And it. And it. And it.

Hold that Moment.


Notes:

  • Photos: DK @ Daybreak. 7:18 to 7:45 am, January 15, 2022. 5° F (-15 C), feels like -9° F (-23 C). Calf Pasture Beach, Norwalk, CT. See more photos here.
  • Thank you Val. Thanks for checking in. You inspired this post this morning.

Saturday Morning


DK @ Daybreak. 6:32 to 6:46 am, January 8, 2022. 19° F (-7 C), feels like 7° F (-14 C). Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.

Lightly Child, Lightly

Twilight can gift us some of the most spectacular atmospheric displays, a riot of shifting colours that punctuate the end of a day, or announce the arrival of a new morning.

The palate and quality of shadowless light has inspired artists, composers and authors from time immemorial and can induce feelings of awe, but also serenity.

These dazzling displays are brought to us thanks to the conjunction of the Earth’s orbital and atmospheric characteristics.

Twilight is the time, at the end of a day, between the sun setting below the local horizon and before the beginning of the night.

It is also the time between the end of the night and the sun rising above the local horizon, that marks the beginning of a new day.

From a meteorological perspective, twilight is further subdivided into three categories: Civil twilight, Nautical twilight and Astronomical twilight. These are based on how far the sun is beneath the horizon, with light and colour draining from the skies as night approaches… (Read on…)

—  Chris Fawkes,  from “Did you know there are three kinds of twilight? (BBC.co.)


Notes:

  • Quote: Thank you The Hammock Papers
  • Photo: DK  @ Daybreak. 7:22 a.m. Thursday, January 6, 2021. 36° F  (2C), feels like 29F (-2C). Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

(Another Morning) Chasing Birds

Chasing birds to get high
My head is in the clouds
Chasing birds to get by
I’m never coming down…

—  Foo Fighters, from “Chasing Birds” (2021)


Photo: DK @ Daybreak. 7:09 am, December 27, 2021. 30° F (-1° C), feels like 22° F (-6° C). Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.

Sunday Morning

…Gentle… It comes when twilight comes. It is hardly worth mentioning. But it is as strange as the stirring of one leaf on a tree, when there is no wind.

 Patricia Highsmith, “Patricia Highsmith: Her Diaries and Notebooks: 1941-1995.″ Anna von Planta (Editor). (Liveright, November 16, 2021)


Photo: DK @ Daybreak. 7:19 am, December 26, 2021. 38° F. (3° C). Rowayton, CT

Lightly Child, Lightly

He felt at peace only in the hour before dawn, when the darkness seemed to give way slowly to a mist, and it was at this hour that he would wake and sit by his window.

—  Peter Ackroyd, from Hawksmoor (Hamish Hamilton, May 25, 2010)


Notes:

  • Quote: Thank you The Hammock Papers
  • Photo: DK  @ Daybreak. 6:35 a.m. Sunday, August 25, 2021. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

wasn’t just matter, but that it was actually alive…

Ms. Tippett:  I know that “landscape” is a really pivotal word for you that you use, not just in describing the natural world, but an important word in talking about how human beings know themselves and move through the world. I haven’t been to precisely the place you’re from, but I think the west coast of Scotland, the west coast of Ireland, it is this completely unusual, this wild, raw, bleak beauty. But talk to me about how you have come to understand landscape as something that forms each of us.

Mr. O’Donohue: Well, I think it makes a huge difference, when you wake in the morning and come out of your house, whether you believe you are walking into dead geographical location, which is used to get to a destination, or whether you are emerging out into a landscape that is just as much, if not more, alive as you, but in a totally different form, and if you go towards it with an open heart and a real, watchful reverence, that you will be absolutely amazed at what it will reveal to you.

And I think that that was one of the recognitions of the Celtic imagination — that landscape wasn’t just matter, but that it was actually alive. What amazes me about landscape — landscape recalls you into a mindful mode of stillness, solitude, and silence, where you can truly receive time.

—  John O’Donohue, “The Inner Landscape of Beauty” in On Being Krista Tippett (August 31, 2017)


Notes:

Then the guns open up and flames light the sky


Note:

  • This morning’s post, in honor of our Veterans.
  • “You stand in a trench of vile stinking mud / And the bitter cold wind freezes your blood / Then the guns open up and flames light the sky / …Flashing red tabs, Brass and Ribbons galore / What the Hell do they know about fighting a war?” —  from a poem written by C.S.M Sidney Chaplin.
  • Photos: DK @ Daybreak. 5:45 to 6:15 am, November 11, 2021. 33° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT

Slowly…

Slowly, dawn was breaking.

Streaks of colour – peach bellinis, orange martinis, strawberry margaritas, frozen negronis – streamed above the horizon, east to west.

Elif Shafak, 10 Minutes 38 Seconds in This Strange World (Bloomsbury Publishing; September 24, 2019)


Photo: DK @ Daybreak. 5:52 to 6:35 am, November 9, 2021. 46° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.

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