Explosion In The Canyon

Bryce sunrise1057

 

Sometimes Nature just lets it all hang out. That’s what happened here at Bryce Canyon National Park this morning. Not this morning, morning, but the one in the picture. It all started out quietly enough. You’re standing there in the dark waiting. You’ve got everything set for a gentle little picture of the sunrise filled with all the normal colors you’d expect, waiting for it to spread its light over the hoodoos when Nature looks up and goes “Oh No Boyos, Not this morning. Hang on.”

That’s when the sun popped up with little or no preamble and all color broke loose. This picture always reminds me of that old Wisconsin joke where you’re riding shotgun and your buddy is driving down the icy road, 80 miles an hour, and he looks over and says “You want a see a neat trick. Here, hold my beer.” Things unexpected.

This is not your grandmother’s sunrise this morning as you’re well past the blue stage where everything is shades of blue and purple with just a little golden line to mark the horizon. Past the point where there is just the tiniest spot of orange to mark where the sun will come up. Past where the deeps reds and oranges fill the sky like a kaleidoscope filled with rubies. In fact there wasn’t any of that. It just seemed to go from dark to light. And instead of all the foreplay we’re used to from a normal sunrise we’re at the point where that big white spot over the mountain is soon going to be a white-hot sun. And it’s morning. Show’s over. Time for breakfast at Ruby’s.

Steaming hot coffee, 25 eggs over medium please, 4 lbs. of sausage crispy, pancakes the size of your face and toast, lots of toast. Then when it’s over and they’re carting you out to your car on the refrigerator dolly they keep just for these kinds of occasions (keep your knees straight please) and you point your stuffed little face towards the mid-morning sun like a big fat lizard, you’re thankful that this is what you do. This is your day job. Because as soon as your naps over it’s time to begin to plan for the next mornings sunrise. Work, work ,work, work, work.