Yesterday morning, as I left Denver under clear, cold skies, I was treated to a spectacular sunrise on the High Plains. The mellow but brilliant colors reminded me of the rainbow sherbet that I often enjoyed as a child (and still do on occasion). Low, flat clouds had taken on a raspberry glow while a swath of lemon yellow stretched across the horizon, fading to lime green at the fringes. As sunrise approached, the pale yellow evolved to a deep orange off to the southeast, marking the site where the sun would soon appear.
Humans have always been inspired by the sunrise and, for early man, it surely brought hope after the long, frigid winter nights. Even today, the sun's return is especially welcome after the extended periods of darkness that typify the season. More than signifying the recovery of light and heat (what little is provided by a low winter sun), the colorful display offers reassurance that nature's cycle will persevere.
Some may feel that I am overstating the significance of a sunrise to such intelligent creatures as human beings. But I suspect that we all carry collective memories from our distant ancestors, perhaps imprinted in our genetic code, that trigger deep-seated emotions in response to certain natural events. Early in our history, this revelation was vital to combat despair and, even today, it lingers in our soul for the same purpose.
