July 6, 2016 — Over the weekend, we watched a TV show that features people hunting for a perfect private island. A couple, Larry and Lubya, toured three islands near Fiji, with a realtor. Each island had fantastic views. Who can imagine purchasing an island for several million dollars? No wonder these shows are popular; most of us probably fantasize along with the couple about our private island.
Something the male half of the couple said stuck in my mind as he pondered an island with great views.
“You can put your lawn chair toward the sunrise, and turn it around for the sunset.”
Well, duh. I’ve thought about it ever since. The sun rises everywhere, and the sun sets everywhere. You can put your lawn chair toward the sunrise, and turn it around for the sunset in Thailand or Abilene, Texas. While there may not be the Pacific Ocean spread out before you, there are amazing, wonderful surprises all over the world. It’s just a matter of perspective.
While I’ll never see a sunrise or sunset in Fiji, I’ve viewed beautiful sunrises and sunsets.
I’ve been blessed all my life to enjoy sunsets such as the one pictured above in my beloved Florida. I prefer the moments just after the yellow orb dips into the horizon, and colors up and down the spectrum glitter across the water.
Sunset in my backyard is amazing almost every evening. Deer like to traverse our yard from the neighboring woods to travel to the lake across the street. We’ve seen as many as seven in the dim, amber light after sunset. To be honest, I’ve not seen that many sunrises in my life, but one stands out. If I never saw another, this morning on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon would fill my soul with enough joy to last a lifetime. We stayed at the Grand Canyon Lodge and got up early (not usual for us) and walked to an area where a large, wooden cross stood against a view to the east. Seeing the sun rise over the canyon with the cross in the foreground lacks appropriate words or pictures to describe its magnificence. The sunrise view was a once-in-a-lifetime, take-your-breath-away experience. If this scene had a score, it would be “How Great Thou Art.”
Not all our days are beach days or sunrises over a sublime slice of the earth. But, we have been given a gift; we can “move our lawn chairs” either way and catch the sunrise or sunset, wherever we are. The day after my mother died, the sun rose as it always does. The day my son was diagnosed with autism, the sun set.
Move your Adirondack or camping seat or cushioned wicker couch often and take in the beauty around you. It’s a matter of perspective.