If you have followed my adventures for any amount of time, you know that I love sunrise. To me, there is no better way to start the day than in the peacefulness of the early morn, as the birds awaken and begin to sing, hearing  the breeze rather than the rush of traffic, feeling the lingering coolness of the night as the day slowly brightens.

The variety of that early morning palette never ceases to amaze me. Vivid or pastel, cloud filled or mostly clear, the changes that occur between darkness and sun up are always a wonder to ponder.

Living at the top of a four story house on a hill overlooking the city gives me a great vantage point for watching the sun come up. Being in the mountains though is a different experience than being at the seashore.

At the shore, the sun rises over the horizon culminating in that glorious golden globe painting the sky and turning the sea to a golden rivulet surrounded by diamonds.

It comes up right on time, when the almanac says it should.That is not true of sunrise in the mountains.

In the mountains sunrise is slower. By the time the sun actually breaks the horizon, the actual sunrise is long past — maximum beauty occurs a good 10-15 minutes before that golden orb lifts above the mountain tops. When it finally crests, all that usually happens is a mighty brilliance that just makes an already bright and beautiful day complete.

Occasionally though the clouds and the light work out just right, like this day:

Which do you prefer? The slow awakening of a mountain sunrise or the instant gratification of the seashore?

How do you greet the sunrise where you are?