This morning…this frosty morning of late November…the sun rising over the mountain behind me…as the moon set in front of me. The sunrise reflected in the glass. There I am in the middle, a shadow faintly outlined, but utterly insignificant in this daily drama of darkness transformed.

Last night, the moon was rising where the sun is rising now, and we watched its slow, buoyant, faintly orangish climb over the eastern hills, over the black and beloved silhouette of Mt. Hood. Somehow we knew the sunrise would be just as good. The coffee went on at 5:00 a.m.

Two luminaries; one moment in time. Transition. They never meet, but this morning, through our windows, these two of significant otherness almost saw eye to eye.


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