Eos' Rosy Fingers

As much as the moon draws me, so too the dawn.  Eos was the Greek goddess of dawn whose rosy fingers opened the gates of heaven to allow her brother Helios to drive his chariot across the sky.

I was vacationing on Cape Cod and felt the deep desire to arise early and capture the sunrise.  I had already done some preliminary scouting for the best vantage point and headed in that direction.  Once there I needed to find a location where I could create a nice composition.  The sun seemed to take a painfully long time to even light the sky before showing itself.  A cloud bank formed just above the horizon.  There were insects that seemed to enjoy inflicting small doses of pain on my bare skin.  The cool sand under my bare feet was wonderful.  I had enticed my teenaged daughter and her high school friend to come along.  At this time I suggest you not bring someone along unless they are there to be part of the photography experience.  I captured several images that morning.  Several have been turned into greeting cards in my store,  www.greetingcarduniverse.com/dativer .  My daughter and her friend captured some of their own images that morning and I am fairly certain they won't soon forget the experience.

Lyrics: How Can I Keep From Singing

My life flows on in endless song;

Above earth's lamentation,

I hear the sweet, tho' far-off hymn

That hails a new creation;

Thro' all the tumult and the strife

I hear the music ringing;

It finds an echo in my soul--

How can I keep from singing?

What tho' my joys and comforts die?

The Lord my Saviour liveth;

What tho' the darkness gather round?

Songs in the night he giveth.

No storm can shake my inmost calm

While to that refuge clinging;

Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth,

How can I keep from singing?

I lift my eyes; the cloud grows thin;

I see the blue above it;

And day by day this pathway smooths,

Since first I learned to love it;

The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,

A fountain ever springing;

All things are mine since I am his--

How can I keep from singing?

When tyrants tremble, sick with fear,

And hear their death-knell ringing,

When friends rejoice both far and near,

How can I keep from singing?

In prison cell and dungeon vile,

Our thoughts to them go winging;

When friends by shame are undefiled,

How can I keep from singing?

©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved