Dawning on a dream

Like the sleepy child not yet ready to face the day, I yawned into the darkness, shifted my weight on my stone seat, and nuzzled my cheek onto Malcolm's shoulder.  It was barely 5am.  We could hear others shuffling around nearby, out doing the same thing we were doing in the same hushed tones as everyone else.

Once every few minutes, the darkness would be abruptly sliced through by a camera flash or someone checking their time on their phone or using a flashlight.  If I thought it grew imperceptibly lighter, I would occasionally take out my good-in-low-light camera and snap a flashless photo of the darkness.  At least the first five of these shots came out completely black.  But as time dragged on the faintest of shadows began to appear.  Details started materializing n the blind shots I was taking; a palm tree, a wall, a tower.

As the sky grew lighter and lighter, everyone - including me - began to stir and an atmosphere of excitement began to bubble.  Cameras were alive capturing the stupas, reflecting ponds, the libraries and the walkways that the morning twilight was slowing uncovering.  Fifty photos later we were ushered to a new vantage point - it was choked with other tourists eager for that picture perfect memory, but it was because this was the spot to be.

In the moments we waited, we were warmed and jostled to the point where we wondered if this was all worth it--but then, it happened.  The blazing red sun finally broke the horizon and illuminated all of Angkor Wat in all of its timeless splendor.  Cameras went crazy.  But after grabbing a few of those once-in-a-lifetime shots, I stopped to put the camera down and fully savour the moment that.  That moment that I'd always told myself I'd experience was finally upon me and it was breathtaking.