Sunrise

            In the summer of 2014, I had just graduated college and didn’t know what I was doing with my life in the slightest. Well, I guess I still don’t, mostly. But what I did know was that me and three of my friends were going to the east coast for a week or two. I saved up as much money as I could, then, two weeks before the trip began, I promptly put in my notice at the local convenience store that I wouldn’t be coming back after the trip. It’s not that it was a bad job, I really don’t think I’ve held a “bad” job in my life, which is quite lucky for me. It’s just that I was ready to move on. I was a wild 21-year-old who had the whole world at his disposal. Well, that’s what I thought at the time anyway. I didn’t know that it was really me who was at the disposal of the world. I guess that’s a lesson that is only learned in time.

            So, upon giving my two week’s notice, I got ready to head out east. I had never been to the east coast before, and was very excited to see the sites, meet the people, and live the road life. These are things that do not appeal to me anymore now that I’ve had my share of people. But like I said, I was young, and I didn’t know any better.

            My three friends and I hit the road. The first leg of the trip we drove all through the night. We were on our way to New York and hardly stopped for anything. Eventually, we got to that point where you’re so tired, you’re basically out of your mind. To us, everything was hilarious. We dubbed towers with blinking red lights, “the Guardians,” and for whatever reason, this was as funny as anything we’d ever experienced in our lives.

            We drove until the morning, and when we got to upstate New York and pulled into the first Walmart parking lot and promptly fell asleep. I don’t recommend doing this, because you’re likely to have a run in with the police or some local people you want to avoid. But we got lucky, and no one disturbed us. I think I only slept for about twenty minutes, anyway, because 1. I can’t sleep very well in cars, and 2. The sun was just coming up, so it shined down into the vehicle and right into my eyes. I don’t remember how long I went without sleeping properly, but it was a long time. Probably close to a whole day. I had to end up taking a pill to go to sleep for the first time in my entire life.

            We saw the sites of the east coast, including New York City itself. It’s crammed with people. I don’t know how anyone lives there. It’s a heck of a place to visit, but I could never stay their permanently. But I’m sure the same thing can be said about Ohio, if people talk about Ohio at all. The best part about New York City, for me, was Central Park. It’s beautiful, it’s like a whole different dimension lodged into the city. Of course, Times Square is nice too, but being in the most famous park in the world really held a lot of value for me.

            But the highlight of the entire trip, for me, was Maine. I haven’t been to many states in my life, but out of all the traveling I’ve done, I’d say Maine is my favorite place I’ve ever been.

We went to two places in Maine: Bangor and Portland. Bangor, Maine, is where Stephen King lives. I know this because I passed his house. There’s my claim to fame. But I must admit, there’s something kind of eerie in Bangor. It’s in the air. To this day, I don’t know if it’s because Stephen King lives there, or if that’s why he lives there. Sort of a chicken and egg type situation.

            Portland, Maine was my favorite part of the trip, by far. And it’s not just because the town is beautiful. We went to beach and saw the ocean, which I had seen before, but appreciated more now that I was an adult. There was also a special museum, dedicated to cryptozoology (which is an interest of mine). I still have my beard, but at the time, I had long hair too, so I posed with the statues of Bigfoot, and it looked like a father-son portrait. It was a lot of fun. And, as far as I know, it’s the only museum like that in the country. Talk about your unique experiences.

            It was here that I learned about the moose-God Pamola. A spirit with a moose’s head on a chiseled human body. With wings! There were legends about this creature, which I had never heard of, and has since become part of my personal mythology.

            All this aside, there was also Cadillac Mountain. This is a spot in Maine where, according to science, the first rays of sun light touch the United States. We drove to the top of this mountain, where there were many other tourists. There was even a couple getting married up there. What a beautiful thought.

            Or, it would have been.

            But see, when we got to the top of the mountain that day, it was too foggy to see the sunrise. And thus, it seemed that we had climbed to the top of the world (or at least it felt like it) for nothing. We still have our memories, but I wonder what it would have been like if we had seen those rays of light. How majestic it may have been.

            Alas, it was not to be.

            We ended up cutting our trip short, I don’t remember why, but after close to a week, we began to head home to Ohio. I don’t remember that drive home as much as I remember the drive out, probably because I was so exhausted. And not in the everything is funny sort of way I had been in the beginning. I was more worn out from all the travel, spending all my money, and the prospect of not having a job when I got back. I did mention I was young, right? So, I hadn’t lined up a job before I quit the convenience store. Whoops. I do remember one thing very vividly, however.

            As we drove back home, through the Ohio backroads, I sat in the back seat, sprawled out form exhaustion and long, long hours in the car. As we were heading home, it was close to sunrise. I looked into the mirror of the car to see the sun coming up vividly behind me. I still remember how pink and orange and blue it was. A grin crossed my face. Even in my half-conscious state, I realized something: we had seen, in our own backyard, what we had failed to see upon climbing a mountain. We went all the way to the top of the United States to see the sunrise and couldn’t see it. But here it was, right behind us as we drove home. That’s when I realized, probably for the first time in my young life, the importance of home. The idea that, what you need is all around you, if you were to look closely enough. There was a dance of endings and beginnings in my head. For, as the sunrise represented the beginning of something, the trip also represented the end of something. It was the end, looking back, of my youthful frivolity, and the beginning of transition into the real world. The last dying gasp of my wild college days, even though I was out of college already.

            That trip was very important to me. It was formative. Had it happened any other time than the space in between my college youth and my blooming adulthood, it probably wouldn’t have meant as much. But the timing was like the baby bear’s porridge: just right. It solidified who I was, and who I was going to be, all at the same time. And that’s a lot of work to pack into a week, I think. That’s not to say I haven’t continued to change and grow; the years in between then and now have seen me through a lot. But what I am saying is that maybe I truly became conscious during that week. I don’t think I ever would have noticed the sun rising before that. And it certainly wouldn’t have impacted me enough for me to remember it all these years later.

            Maybe I’m putting too much stock into one moment, but I can’t help but wonder why it lives so vividly in my head. It was as if the world were saying, “welcome home, this is where you belong.” And every time I see the sunrise (which, I admit isn’t often, I much prefer my sleep these days), I think about that moment.

            Whether it’s consciousness, or the feeling of home, or maybe it’s just a fond memory, there’s something special about that moment. It’s a core part of my development, even though it only lasted a few moments. But the orange and blue and pink bleed into my mind, and when they do, I close my eyes and smile.