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Solstice SunriseDecember 21, 2005 Usually I'm up by sunrise, but being out of the house before first light is not my usual m.o. (OK, truth: If I close the shades and the curtains before I go to bed, first light doesn't hit my head till around 7:40, at which point I rise in a fluster, feeling like I've lost an hour of my day.) Amelia e-mailed last week that she was planning to see the winter solstice sun up on Lucy Vincent Beach and anyone else was welcome to join her. Which is how I happened to be slipping out the front door this morning at 6:25, warmly bundled and accompanied by Rhodry, who, though emphatically not a morning dog, will rise to any occasion at any hour rather than be left behind. The eastern horizon was glowing with color, but the early light hadn't reached the roads yet. Lucy Vincent, located toward the western end of the island's sandy south shore, is a dramatic spot, backed by weathered cliffs, with stolid boulders standing sentinel in the shallows. It's off the South Road, and the dirt road leading to it is, of course, unmarked. I venture down there seldom enough that I can never remember where the damn road is -- before Abel's Hill? after Abel's Hill? before the Allen Farm? -- and almost as soon as I pass Meeting House Road on the right I'm sure I've missed it. The turnoff is farther toward Beetlebung Corner than I think, past the Allen Farm, but will I remember that next time? Probably not. To my left as I drove, the horizon grew red-and-yellower and vivid blues rose up the sky. In Vineyard Haven not a cloud could be seen, but heading up-island that began to change: miniature clouds appeared, all hugging the horizon. Out on the beach a cloud bank rested on the edge of the sea. Patty was already there; Amelia arrived shortly after. We wondered if we'd even get to see the first rays of the first winter sun. In a brief gap in the cloud bank smaller clouds caught the light and flamed yellow tinged with red-orange. Brighter and brighter, incandescent, like a child bursting with secrets -- the red sun crowned and rose stately over the horizon. We watched its silvery rainbow-rippling path reach toward us across the water. Even Rhodry, who had been rooting around at the base of the cliffs, stood still, watching. At last first sunlight touched the nearest standing stone, and the sea road rolled up to our feet on a wave. Amelia read a poem celebrating the return of the sun. We returned to our cars and headed off into our separate days. I was at my computer and logged on by pretty much the usual time. The online Washington Post announced that a Bush-appointed judge had squelched the appeal of the former school board members in Dover, Pennsylvania, who mandated mention of "intelligent design" in ninth grade science classes, and that four Republicans were among the senators blocking the renewal of the Patriot Act in its current civil-liberties-trumping form. Here's hoping that intelligence and courage are coming back with the sun.
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