A sunrise story

Sometimes a sunrise is more than a just pretty sunrise on a February morning.

I saw this view as I was leaving the mountain this morning, and the first thing I thought was that this sunrise means rain. Not the heavy kind of all-day soaking rain but the showery kind of rain. And not even a wide-spread event but the kind where tomorrow I run into someone who lives about 5 miles from me and they say, "We had a nice little shower yesterday." Then, I say, "Huh! I didn’t get anything." That kind of rain.

This is the kind of sky that can delude you into thinking it’s not going to rain at all but if you’re camping and you don’t put the tent fly up so you can enjoy a nice winter night during the February thaw, you can be sure you’ll wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of raindrops on the tent and then you have to get out of your nice warm sleeping bag and fumble with the tent fly in the dark. That kind of rain.

Amazing, isn’t it, how one little sunrise can tell such a story?