Call of
the Sun
by MF Burbaugh
I love sitting
here on the small hill overlooking the bay this early in the morning.
The sun has not yet made its presence felt upon us, to forever change
the scene before me today. The soft, billowy blanket of white fog
sits so still upon the water. There is an additional mist that rests
snuggled up to, and above the blanket, further making the whole area
so still, so utterly quiet and peaceful. Not even the birds seem to
be awake to disturb the serenity.
My wife, Araiel Falaron (Sun
Maiden), a local elven beauty in her own right, lays in the grass,
piccolo in hand, watching the last of the firefly's dance in the
early mist before they sleep. She is waiting for the magic moment
when she will play the 'Call of the Sun' for her tribe.
The
sky is to the point of rendering itself the color blue, a few wisps
of cloud high above, with no patterns or rhymes to distract your
focal point upon the bay. No wind, not the slightest of breezes,
would dare tear apart this beauty which makes you sigh with
contentment and joy to even have been alive to see, smell, and feel
it, in all its splendor.
Somewhere out on the bay the quiet is
broken by a fish jumping, but rather than disturbing the peace it
adds to the charm.
Finally, my wife starts her tune, slowly
at first, long, easy, and low, to gently wake the sleeping giant with
the soft calls of her notes. Then as she sees that the sun has
awakened, she starts her call to it, thanking it for another day.
As it rises, she stands and dances, and plays a loud opening
crescendo, as all of nature joins in with her as she dances the dance
of birth, and follows natures lead as they bring all the instruments
of the universe to bear on one poor little, helpless planet. The
melodious folds, the interweaving of instruments, the crashes of
thunder and rolling of winds, and my Araiel plays and dances her
beautiful heart out. Finally it tapers, one grand finale, 15 minutes
to the second, she stops and falls, and lays helpless on the grass.
Somewhere a father in heaven smiles, and the giant sun leaps into the
heavens.
In the years I have been here I have seen hundreds of
sunrises and sunsets. I spent days with paint and canvas trying to
capture its beauty before realizing it has such subtleties that can
be seen and enjoyed, but never captured on any other medium but the
canvas of the mind, to be indelibly etched forever more...
My
wife smiles up at me, her job is done, I take her hand and we slowly
walk back into the woods. It would be a beautiful day. At its end,
she will return and play the 'Call of the Stars', to once again put
the gentle giant to sleep.
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