One of the things I loved about living in New Smyrna Beach (NSB) was watching the sun rise – but it was always more complicated than the sun simply rising.

Truly wonderful things have a depth to them.

Weather predictions were always laughed at in NSB. The ebb and flow of high and low pressure at the beach always made the weather questionable. The sun might rise and push back cloud cover that sat over land in the morning.

There are dark parts of our lives that we can’t change, that we can’t seem to affect – and people will come by when it’s pouring rain and tell you that your attitude is the problem when they’re standing under a brightly colored umbrella.

They might even call you less than pleasant things when your grounded wrath strikes like lightning, the boom of thunder announcing a less than pleasant feeling for someone between the wrath and whatever that they are tethered to that isn’t ground.

In the end, sometimes the sun simply needs to rise, heating the ocean, creating a high pressure over the water that drives toward the low pressure, pushing the clouds away. Sometimes it pushes the storm to you, the maelstrom of beautiful rage pressed upon the fleeting, the delible, and to greet that rage is also a powerful thing.

When it happens, the best way to experience it is with the feel of the water lapping your toes and the unsteady feel of drifting sand between your toes.

The water currents, the winds… the moon, the outflow of water from rains on the land…

It’s complex, yet all the moving parts of the experience are there to understand by simple observation.

To watch the sun rise is one thing. To watch how it changes the way you experience the world, to change your world in such a tactile way, starts the day properly.

To see it happen, to understand the complexity of the experience, to feel it all as it happens with that understanding…

Is something I miss.

Soon.