Metropolitan Homesick Blues

Southampton Stories & Other Stuff


with 2 comments

Where I was, sunsets were hidden behind skyscrapers or veiled in smog.

To catch a sunrise I had to walk from my house to Avenue Road, stand amid the morning traffic and wait until the yellow ball cleared the trees. Sometimes the traffic haze diffused the early morning light such that you would think you were looking through a filter. You never knew what kind of sunrise it would be. The colour depended on the level of pollution in the air.

            At various times in my career I worked in those skyscrapers. Two of which always gave me unfettered sunsets, if you like looking out over the Gardner Expressway or the rooftops of King Street. Big cities do their best to transform the sun’s coming and going, molding it into something artificial. They steal its reality by making themselves more important.

Where I am, I have rediscovered the truth about the sun. And that is its purity. Nothing impedes its rising and setting. It is clean, sharp and brilliant. Nothing interferes with its colour. Instead it gives colour to everything its light touches. Each season brings its own character.

In the morning the front of my house lights up with incandescence that puts a smile on your face. Rainbows sparkle on the walls from small crystals that we’ve hung in the windows. The treetops behind us turn shades of crimson as they catch the rising light. Shades of terra cotta touch the clouds as the sun creeps up behind them. If you’re driving concession roads past open farm fields you hit a whiteout of light until you drop your visor.

And then you watch the sun in its transit across the sky as it measures the day.

I can stand in my family room or on my deck to watch the sun set now. Again, its light fills my house, but with a more mellow, golden hue. Through the season it travels the length of the forest in back of me. And when its down it leaves indescribable colours in the coming night sky.

Come summer, they celebrate sunsets at the beach. On Friday nights a piper plays until it is gone. The tourists gather at the flag, cameras ready, taking pictures to bring back to the city so they’ll remember what a sunset is supposed to look like. When the sun disappears behind the horizon its golden, green, yellow, ochre, magenta rays reflect on that vast infinity pool that is Lake Huron.

Where I am now, I don’t have to go searching for sunrise or sunset. It is always there…waiting for me.


Written by metropolitanhomesickblues

January 3, 2008 at 8:52 PM

Posted in thoughts

2 Responses

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  1. Wow.


    January 6, 2008 at 5:54 PM

  2. Absolutely beautiful Ed! Can you get the spare bedroom ready…:} I’m missing sunrise, sunsets and clean air for a peaceful sleep!


    January 6, 2008 at 11:02 PM

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