Aquinnah Cliffs and Moshup Beach, Martha’s Vineyard – Massachusetts, U.S.A. Our patience is tested daily. Flight delays, long lines, a bothersome colleague all tap our inner reserve of cool and our ability to be still and wait.
Hardly stress-inducing, sunsets, too, make us wait, and often with great anticipation. The perfect sunset is the balance of a complex equation with time, location, seasonal, and atmospheric variables. And, even under ideal conditions, we must wait, for the sunset we expect may or may not materialize, and when it does, it is rarely what we imagined.
“No great thing is suddenly created.” ~Epictetus
A recent visit to Martha’s Vineyard found me out of breath one evening on the shores of Moshup Beach, the russet-colored Aquinnah Cliffs towering above. It was my last day on the island after days of meetings, and I was determined to see the sinking sun set the red clay cliffs ablaze. Having rushed up-island, I was hot, sticky, and agitated by the seemingly endless foot trail that led from the parking lot to the beach and deposited me some distance from the cliffs. I also feared that I might miss the sun’s final seconds on the horizon.
This was not how I’d wanted my beach visit to go. I’d intended to arrive earlier, explore a bit, reflect on the legendary giant, “Moshup,” who created the island and gave the cliffs their crimson hue by smashing whales against them. I wanted to scout out leisurely the best vantage point from which to absorb what would undoubtedly be an epic sunset.
What I experienced when I arrived, however, was a waning and somewhat unremarkable light. It was nice, but not at all what I envisioned. Mild disappointment set in and I consoled myself by photographing the smooth, multi-colored stones that litter the sandy beach and are stacked precariously atop each other by visitors. With the exception of three nude bathers whom I’d passed yards back, I was alone, and beyond the quiet lapping of waves against the shore, all was silent. And as the stones drew me in with their unique shapes and colors in the soft light, I noticed that the lackluster sunset was slow-burning into an extraordinarily warm, striated afterglow. I paused in admiration. And then, I waited. And I waited some more. And each new minute revealed light and sky more beautiful than the previous. And I’m learning to wait for it.
