Sunrise is my sacred time, but I rarely get a chance to see it. This morning, however, I dropped off my son at the subway at 7 AM, saw that the sky was lightening, and figured I had around 20 minutes or so: just enough time to run into the woods near my apartment--I live in Manhattan, across the street from its only natural forest--and watch it rise. Because when things feel really dark, as they do right now, there's nothing like watching a giant, life-giving flameball pop up over the horizon to remind us that out of darkness light must always reappear.