Cape Cod Sunrise Beauty is a gift from God. Solitude alongside it.

Estimated reading time: 5 minute(s)

I spent an hour one morning at Seagull Beach on the Atlantic ocean in Cape Cod, MA. It was glorious. Magical even. A moment in time, where time is not.¹

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It was 4:30am. I awoke before the alarm sounded. I felt groggy, but a bit of a thrill as I anticipated a beautiful sunrise at the ocean just minutes away.

I arose and dressed, quietly exiting the hotel room where my wife and son were still in restful slumber. As I left the hotel I noticed, to my chagrin, quite a bit of cloud cover. Might I not see the sunrise?

I put the address into the maps app, and headed toward Seagull Beach. Just a ten-minute drive.

On the way, with little traffic, I saw a variety of animals scurrying, darting, or flying about. I nearly hit a baby bunny! And a fox crossed the road nimbly just a hundred or so feet in front of my vehicle. And, not surprisingly, I spotted many seagulls circling in the air above. (I was, after all, headed to Seagull beach…)

I arrived at the large parking lot for this public beach and again, not surprisingly, found it nearly completely empty. One other vehicle was there, but I saw no people. I parked, removed my shoes, hiked up my pants (anticipating walking through the Atlantic waters lapping upon the sand) and proceeded toward the beach.

It was windy. A storm was coming later that day. And cloudy. But there was a beautiful reddish glow where the sun was rising to the east.

I did see one person, far away to the west, down the beach. Later, I looked again and they were gone. Other than that one person, I was alone. About a quarter-mile ahead, there was a pier made from rocks jutting out into the ocean. With about five minutes before sunrise, I decided to head that direction and see if I could watch from there.

As I reached the rocks, the red glow had disappeared as the sun had risen, but was fully blocked by the cloud cover. To my right (south) the clouds were a bit thinner and the rising sun began to reflect pink off of them. So beautiful!

I was a bit dismayed by the too-thick cloud cover, but only a very slight bit. This was incredible. The sounds of the ocean. The sight of the ocean. The glorious sky with the magnificent colors. It was truly arresting. I just stopped, stood, listened, and breathed what God had made.

The birds were about their morning scavenging, pecking at the numerous shells scattered along the beach. Some just stood there, like me, almost as if they, too, were arrested by this morning’s beauty. Taking it in. Perhaps so.

I can not sufficiently put into words how I felt. Not only awed, inspired, even refreshed by the beauty of everything… that was certainly true. It was more. There was something in the solitude. The fact that it was just me, there, with everything God had made in that time, in that place. He was certainly there with me, I knew that. We had a good talk. And there was something in me that, while not leaving nor forgetting all else prior to this time, paused it for this time. I said (out loud), “I could stay here forever.”

And I meant that, at the moment, I felt complete peace and serenity in that moment (that “moment in time, where time is not”).

Of course, I did leave. I knew that my people were eager for the return trip home. We were hoping to reach home by a certain time to accomplish some other things before starting the next things. All good, but barely in my mind during my time at the beach.

After just about an hour, I wandered back to my vehicle, attempted to scrape as much sand from my feet as I could, and then re-shoed them before driving back to the hotel.

I was so full of joy from that short time under the sunrise sky at Seagull Beach.

But there was more!

We drove home under ominous skies and high winds. There was even a tornado watch issued for several of the counties we were driving through, a rarity in this region. Then, as we were traveling down the highway, without warning, a wall of water descended from the sky, almost completely eliminating visibility! We could only see the taillights and hazard lights of the trucks in front of us, and all of us reduced speed by fifty percent. It was treacherous for a couple minutes, then relented. This happened at least once more, maybe twice. It was harrowing!

The skies cleared a bit (less torrential rain!) as we continued on, but the strong wind persisted, as did the big, gray storm clouds.

We arrived safely at home, and that evening, I was out running errands. On my last stop, I noticed the sky was a glowing yellowy-orange. It was astonishing! I was planning to head home, but I needed a better view of this! So I left the gas station where I hadn’t yet refueled, and sped toward a nearby hill where I knew there would be a better view of the sky.

That was a great choice!

I missed seeing the full sky in that yellowy-orange. When I arrived it was already beginning to redden. And it was so bright! Glowing! Incredible. Two glorious sun skies in one day! First, a spectacular sunrise over the Atlantic ocean, then an incredible storm-cloud sunset over the farm fields near my home. What a gift from God!

We need those times. Times when all the things that worry us, or that weigh us, or that trouble us—all the normal things of life—are for a moment, paused. Relieved. Not resolved, but relieved. For that moment, an indiscriminate amount of time, a gift from Father, for our good.

I am asking him right now, as I write this, to give you one of these moments soon, too.

And I can’t wait for my next one.