5:45 ante meridiem alarms are the pits. Usually I’m excited to wake up for a photo shoot, but the food from the holiday weekend was weighing me down. Visions of Tofurky, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole and yeast rolls (lots of yeast rolls) had been dancing in my head and belly.
I sluggishly threaten the clouds as I slip on the clothes I laid out the night before and head downstairs to find Dad. It’s not often I get to wake up in the same house as my parents, and it’s not often I’m awake before Dad. Mom has the coffee going and is ironing laundry way too early in the morning. It’s sweet to witness her preparing his morning elixir. Moments like these are perfection that too often go unnoticed.
Gloves. Hat. Coat. Coffee. Saturday morning photo adventure, go!
I sluggishly threaten the clouds as I slip on the clothes I laid out the night before and head downstairs to find Dad. It’s not often I get to wake up in the same house as my parents, and it’s not often I’m awake before Dad. Mom has the coffee going and is ironing laundry way too early in the morning. It’s sweet to witness her preparing his morning elixir. Moments like these are perfection that too often go unnoticed.
Gloves. Hat. Coat. Coffee. Saturday morning photo adventure, go!
We roll out from the house in Pinehurst’s Fairwood on 7 in a retiree’s go-cart and make for the lake on Pinehurst No 4. The sun is rising and the clouds are floating miracles as I scurry over the shimmering, dew-drenched grass. The surface of the lake looks like a portal to another dimension, reflecting the sky and upside down pines surrounded by undulating manicure-turf. It’s almost otherworldly, empty of players.
Hello, my name is Sarah. I enjoy crispy tofu, sci-fi novels and sunrise strolls through empty golf courses… and introducing myself as if I were on a 70's dating game TV show. My inner monologue often aggrandizes its sense of humor, but it always has a point. I should hang out on golf courses near dark more often.
Hello, my name is Sarah. I enjoy crispy tofu, sci-fi novels and sunrise strolls through empty golf courses… and introducing myself as if I were on a 70's dating game TV show. My inner monologue often aggrandizes its sense of humor, but it always has a point. I should hang out on golf courses near dark more often.
My dad is my model and I get him to pose the cart and drive over a bridge a few times. To the maintenance crews, we’re clearly enjoying ourselves. Or we’re a nuisance.
Somewhere near the clubhouse on No 7 when we're about to call it a morning I notice my socks are soaking and I make a mental note to buy new boots. Their permeation is a satisfying yet temporary memento of our morning accomplishment.
The silver lining to shooting sunrise is wrapping and reflecting upon all you’ve accomplished while the rest of the world has been sleeping. Time for another cup of coffee.
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