by Carol
Every photography workshop, someone suggests a sunrise photoshoot. I always feel that I am not a real photographer if I say no and stay in my warm, soft antique B and B bed, looking forward to to the smells of bananas foster french toast and bacon cooking. The alarm goes off, the victorian lamp goes on, and I look out the window to the cold,dark, deserted street below. Am I crazy ??
Its a slightly damp three block walk to the beach where I meet up with the other crazies between Congress Hall and the jetty. The iconic Cape May skyline is a dark silhouette to our left. The seagulls are starting to call. I am still wishing I was warm in my bed. I'm wondering if I can catch a ride back when we are done. I clutch my sweatshirt tighter around me.
Then the oranges and reds start up.
The sand starts to reflect the golden light. The smallest footstep or pile or beach straw becomes a work of art.
The Victorian beach houses start to catch the light at their highest point.
The blues then come in, and the purples and the puddles in the sand reflect it all. Meanwhile the birds are louder, and the constant sound of the ocean waves is a calming soundtrack.
And then the recognizable morning begins in earnest, a few cars sound over on Beach Avenue. The doors of the coffee shops are swung open.
I refuse a car ride back to my B and B. I prefer to walk. I end up walking the town, watching the gingerbread houses light up, the daffodils and wisteria catching the sun. I walk for almost 40 minutes, and I feel great! I head back towards my french toast.
Cape May is awake and so am I.
"After God created the sunrise, he created artists, photographers and poets
to ensure his feat remained immortal."
Terri Guillermets
