Monterey Bay, California
“Both ocean and sky are already about as rosy as possible, the one with stars, the other with dulse, and foam, and wild light.” ~ John Muir from “Steep Trails”
From the Edge
Why would anyone crawl out of bed and hike a mile and a half uphill in the chill of a Fall morning to take a photo? I wore a headlamp to light my way up the path through the pitch-black forest, as glimpses of a pink horizon poked through the oaks and pines. While I set up my camera on the overlook, the sun cast a soft glow on the skyline, and traces of dawn light streamed across Monterey Bay.
I kept wondering why this photo mattered to me. The hilltop was dead quiet, with only the faint barking of sea lions bleeding up from the bay. The city of Monterey sat in the foreground, and across the bay, the twinkling lights of Sand City put on a show. But why, so the photo can sit on my computer or, at best, live for a moment on some social media website? What drives us is a complete mystery.
It feels like I’m doing something beneficial, maybe bringing a bit of beauty into the world, but does the reason change anything? No matter the outcome of events, we still stand for what we stand for and are still motivated to do what we do. If there’s a reason, it’s got to be the sheer wonder of our experience—the moment the sun breaks over the horizon and flashes across the bay. It’s so easy to overlook the pure sanctity of life.