The Glory of a Sunrise

   Not being a great meteorologist, I never know what kind of a sunrise we might have here on St. Simons. So when the light first began to appear in the east,

   But it got a little brighter with some more color

   Then we got this

   God put on quite a show to remind me that His Mercies are new every morning.

   I am awed and grateful at the same time.

   (All of these are posted straight out of the camera, not enhanced on any computer program. The final two look darker but the cloud cover darkened the sky considerably.)

Michael? Who is Michael?

   What was a disaster for the Florida Panhandle, turned out to be a non-event here in the Golden Isles.

   When a storm heads our way out of the Atlantic, we say, "Just wait it will hit the Gulf Stream 60 miles from shore and turn north".

   Or if it, like this time, comes at us out of the Gulf of Mexico, our retort is, "Just wait and see where the winds take it. Off to the west sometimes, or at least north of us to the Carolinas".

   So Michael struck north into Florida and then turned east and passed us to the north.

   Our morning, today, the day we were supposed to get rain and wind, appeared like this on the beach.

   Soft Colors at the outset.

   A family enjoying the color of the sky and the warm water of the ocean.

   The wind pushing the sand north, and sandblasting my ankles in the process.

   The roar of the waves in the inlet.

   We hate it that someone was in the path and had to suffer the effects of this big storm, but are thankful that it was not here.

Missed by Most

   People love to be on the beach. Both locals and tourists flock to the beach when the weather is nice, all for a variety of reasons. Of course there is the water to swim in, wade in or maybe even surf in.

   Then the sun beckons folks. Some for warmth, some for browning the skin, and some because of the openness of the beach and the majesty of that great ball in the sky.

   But I realize that most beach goers miss the allure of the beach in the predawn hours. The quietness of the air, but also the lapping of the water on the tidal river and the sometimes roar of the waves oceanside.

   Arriving there at Gould's Inlet this morning around 6:15, I found I was the only car in sight. The sky was showing a little light, and the moon was still high in the heavens.

   The small waves of the high tide were lapping at the shore of the tidal river.

   The shoreline afforded very little space to walk between the waves of the receding high tide and the perpetual fluffy sand, a small strip of relatively firm sand next to the water.

   But that did not matter much at this time of morning, there were few walkers out this early anyway.

   As the sky began to color some orange next to the horizon, clumps of marsh grass pointed to the high water mark of the previous incoming tide.

   As the time approached the sunrise hour, a few more brave souls awakened and stirred on the sand.

   The sky lightened, the colors deepened, the clouds gave emphasis to the whole landscape.

   And the ocean waves, albeit small, gave a deeper roar, as they rolled toward the shoreline.

   Human activity stalled and then stopped as those who had made it to the beachfront stopped to watch the sun appear over the ocean on the horizon.

   Folks gazed and loved the sight, but really did not know what they had missed in the previous hour.

   My favorite beach time of all, the quiet semi-dark hours before the world begins another new day.

   God's handiwork and His Mercies and Grace.

   New every morning even when it is hard to see.