This week on the Mountain Gazette Library -
Soul Rising By Donny O’Neill
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Mountain Gazette Library
Soul Rising By Donny O’Neill
Hello and welcome back to the mountain gazette library. I'm John Booze star and this week we're diving into soul rising, a poignant reflection on the author's deep connections with the sunrise and the personal revelations it brings. Join us as we explore the profound impact of witnessing dawn's first light in the mountains. Mountain Gazette Library is proudly presented by Stio, designed, developed, and tested at the base of the Tetons in Jackson, whole Wyoming. Stio was founded to inspire connection with the outdoors through premium technical apparel for the epic and everyday. Learn more at stio.com, stio.com, steal, let the outside in. The mountain gazette library is proudly presented by Gordini. Based in Vermont and family run, Gordini has focused on the same mission since 1956 to keep you outside longer. Our gloves, socks, and goggles aren't merely accessories, there are critical pieces of equipment that are built to last season after season. We take our commitment to people and the planet seriously and build that into every detail. From introducing the first-ever down mitts to knitting quilted dual-layer socks, innovation is always done in the spirit of progress. Learn more about what drives our passions and products at gordini.com, g-o-r-d-i-n-i.com. Mountain Gazette Library is also proudly presented by Visit Idaho and Visit Sun Valley. Discover where adventure meets style in Sun Valley, Idaho. Welcome to America's pioneering mountain town that veers off the beaten path. Explore five distinct mountain races, over 200 miles of single-track mountain biking trails, a myriad of five fishing waters, exciting events, and inviting dining options. Find a summer escape at visit sunvalley.com. Soul Rising by Donnie O'Neill The promise of dawn's grand reveal stifles any chance of drifting off to sleep. It's the same every time. The alarm is set for an ungodly hour when most humans are deeply embedded in dreamland, while some may just be slipping under the covers. As my eyes pinch tightly shut, urging sleep to come sooner, anxious energy infects my brain. Yet, why worry about something that occurs daily through clear skies, rain storms, and driving snow? It is inevitable whether you witness it firsthand or sleep through the alarm. See its nervousness about what I'll find when the dawn's early light begins its slow creep across the landscape, bringing clarity to everything hidden by the night's darkness. Unlike the positive buzz that keeps me awake as frozen flakes drift to earth, anticipating a day of powder skiing or some grand backpacking adventure deep in the wilderness. This feeling, this infection of nerves, is about what and who I'll find standing alone in a landscape whose cloaking shadows are quickly fleeting. What drives me to leave the comfort and warmth of my home, to drive to a trailhead in the dark to witness the sun rip the blanket off the world, or slip from the coziness of a warm sleeping bag, to step outside the tent and wander to the best vantage point of the eastern horizon? Why wake up early for the sunrise when I can catch the sunset later? The striking blend of orange, yellow, pink, purple and red isn't so different, but the sunset is a social phenomenon. Anyone convention outside as the sun finishes its day-long journey across the sky. Seeing the sunrise takes effort and commitment, it's an intimate moment when I recognize that I'm in the minority, witnessing a grand spectacle at a given moment in time. At sunset, I promise the blanket of darkness, at sunrise, I'm pledged to revelation. It's just me, the stillness, the silence, and the emptiness of the dawn. I can hide behind the busyness and noise of everyday life. Out here, on a ledge far from the world's constant buzz, there's no curtain to slip behind. I'm forced to confront every part of myself without distraction, the beauty, the imperfections, the wonder of my own life and place in the world, just as the trees, rocks, cliffs, and peaks are revealed by the glowing touch of the sun. When I was younger, a sunrise was generally witnessed when a night's youthful debauchery bled into the beginning of a new day. Now, I venture out with a camera in hand, hoping to capture a moment in time whose uniqueness contrasts with the fact that it occurs each day. The more I interrupt sleep in favor of walking groggily along dirt trails, ridge lines, and river banks, the more I wonder whether I'm seeing the sunrise in my photography or searching for myself in the sunrise. I pursue the sunrise as an extension of the self; it's the lone time of day when my entire being is pulled from the cloak of darkness into the light. I met my most vulnerable, and, for me, there's no more significant catalyst for contemplation than a golden hour in the mountains. It's personal; there's a spectacularity in every sunrise; a glittering reflection from the glass windowscape of a skyscraper; the steady lapping of the tide as that glow orb peeks out from the ocean's ridge; the sprawling, endless color gradient stretching from night to morning outside an airplane window. There's something in them; a special transmission from the creeping light to all those fortunate enough to witness it and dissect its message. But, in the mountains, the sunrise envelopes me from all directions. First, the peaks, plateaus, and pinnacles begin a chameleonic shift from sculpted shadows to inviting giants clothed in soft ribbons of purple and pink. The alpin glow is itself an optical phenomenon, where indirect sunlight reflects off particulates in the lower atmosphere, which is the precursor to sunrise. And then, the light show begins; a slow reveal at first, like a tantalizing strip tease in a dimly lit bedroom. But then, all at once, the light falls in an orange cascade down the rocky faces, revealing strength in their resolve unmatched by anything in the natural world. To the east, the sun blinds the eye. To the west, the peaks bathed in orange serve as constant reminders of its arrival and presence. The sunrise is inescapable in the mountains, and its omniscience guarantees personal discovery. Whether ascertainable in the moment, or deduced days, weeks, or months later, there are sunrises that rival any life milestone in my memory. In the sawtooths, from the vantage point of a yurt's outhouse, pastel watercolors streaked across the sky above a rolling fog that blurred the pines below. For the course of a hut trip with friends, some close, others newer, I couldn't shake the feeling that the foggy things left unsaid below the surface could always be righted by illumination. In Colorado's Holy Cross Wilderness, an unexpected storm swirled above and obscured the day's first light, with intermittent pale streaks shining the way back home. Trust your gut, right? And this past November, amidst a country divided and constant commentary and punditry, I watched the light reflect off the gnarled granite formations in Buffalo Creek. Silence and stillness are necessary, inseparable parts of my being. Each revelation, standing vulnerable under nature's most striking examples of danger and unforgiveness brings a glint of hope that the lessons learned about myself and the world around me can matriculate into my life outside these rock walls. I've never seen a sunrise I didn't like. Sure, there are times behind the lens when the skies too clear and the colors just aren't there, or the clouds are a bit overbearing and the view becomes obscured. While the camera may be the excuse, the reason, deep inside, is one of discovery. Finding the clarity of mind between the stillness and silence, unearthing the ability to challenge the preconceived notions of myself, surrounded by the blank canvas of the mountains at the break of day. It's about seeing myself as the morning unveils me to the world. Mountain Gazette Library is produced by Mountain Gazette. Executive produced by Mike Rogge, produced and hosted by John Boozdar, Austin Holt is our marketing director. No part of this podcast or the magazine can be reproduced or used to train large language models without express written consent from verb cabin LLC. That means you, OpenAI. To learn more about Mountain Gazette, please visit us at MountainGazette.com. the video. (upbeat music)