Photo: Sunrise over Tujunga

When the winter mornings come,  I dread separating myself from my heavenly cup of hot french roast to take my morning bike (or hike) up to Mt. McGroarty that overlooks our valley.  Getting my butt out the door at 6:30AM is difficult at this time of year. At least it is at the beginning of the season.
 
Yet I receive a huge bonus that happens while Mother Earth is on her winter tilt.  Without changing my morning schedule, I'm privy to the days first rays over the horizon from the trail.  Witnessing and welcoming the suns first spill into the day has an intensity that is hard to put into words, but it's a moment that you begin to look forward to each morning.  The coffee becomes easier to set aside, the ritual of getting the bike shoes and helmet together is less of an annoyance. The sunrise beckons', and I will be there.  Suddenly winter mornings aren't so bad after all.  
 
As well, it's nice to reflect on that moment throughout the day - at the office or in traffic.
 
And so it's a little sad when Mother Earth starts to get ahead of you.  As the solstice continues it's migration to the next milestone (June 21st or there abouts - right?) the sunrise happens earlier - and slowly steals that moment that you've come to look forward to for these past months.   A sign of another year and another fling with the morning sun.  Goodbye Sunrise. I'll be seeing you next winter. 

Many mornings before work, I bike the rough dirt road up to the top of Mt. McGroarty that overlooks the Crescenta Valley. Depending on the season, the  hour of sunrise and my timing,  the view of "The Morning"  from the top can hold many surprises.  Often times I curse myself for not having my camera.  But this time I was able to catch a very surreal scene.

The deep inflow of the ocean fog had blanketed our valley overnight, but had not yet vanished with the rising morning sun.   Looking down in to the gray, I knew that my drive to work would hold the opposite view below the foggy surface.