My Next Fifty Years

When I considered how I wanted to start my fifty-first year I hit upon the idea of a sunrise hike. Just a few miles from here is a 300 foot or so nubble of a mountain called Pigeon Hill overlooking several piney islands and the Gulf of Maine beyond. At this time of year, the sun comes up before five AM this far north, and so I set my alarm for four AM.

I heard the soft patter of light rain as soon as I opened my eyes, and peering out the window, I knew the plan was a wash. Only slightly disappointed (it was 4 AM after all), I alerted the boys and my mom that the hike was off and went back to sleep.

I didn't give up though, and this morning at 3:55 there were a few clouds in the sky, but nothing to justify bagging the plan again. Heidi got up, and so did Emily, Josh, Treat, and Victor. In the lessening gloom we found the trail head and started up at a quick pace-- it would be silly to get up so early and miss the main event. 4:45 found us perched on a conveniently bench-like section of the granite ledge on the eastern shoulder of Pigeon Hill.

The horizon was a hazy pink and orange and for a time I was worried that our sunrise would be obscured by clouds.

"C'mon, Sun! You can do it!" Josh said.

And then, just as sure as the sun rises in the east, the sun rose in the east.

And it was breathtaking.