Land of the Rising Sun

After a long hiatus, a short passage.

 

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A glimpse of light peeked out from the clouded horizon. The coastline flooded with light. The ocean, the green blades of grass, and the small hills awoke. This was the first light of Sunday June 15.

 

I sat in the middle of the deserted farmland, looking past the soft waves, and out into the rising sun. I fell deep into thought, of all that destiny has brought to me, and all that destiny has in store for me to come. There was a longing for the past and worries about the uncertain future. I left Opotiki behind, as well as all the Malaysians that had become my brothers and sisters in the past month. We are settling down in our lives, growing older and it is almost certain we will never enjoy each other's company in the same way again.

 

But looking out at the ocean panorama again, I felt better. I was at the East Cape, the first place in the world to see sunrise. There was the big wide world—the world that keeps on turning, the world that brings me to new people and adventures. And there was the bright rising sun that overwhelmed the dark cloud patches that covered it. And there was the sky decorated in a palette of clouds. There I was surrounded by broad green countryside. I let the last month run through my head one last time—lost things, broken things, anger, the sky is falling down, sadness, laughter, leaning on shoulders, sharing difficulties, mouthfuls of kiwifruit, and knowing smiles. The sun was up now. I stood up and turned to put my tent away.