"Get up! Get up !"my mother whispers . My eyes flash open in the predawn gray . Sleepily , I look around the screened-in

porch of our family's log cabin , where we spend our summer weeks . I take in the dock-en porch swing , the birch-leg

table , the twin bed where my sister sleeps , the smoky glass of the kerosene lantern . My face feels the coolness of the

early-morning air .

　　I relax and curl deeper beneath the blankets' warmth .

　　"Get up !" my mother whispers again . "The sunrise is glorious !" Careful not to let the screen door slam , she sets off

down to the lake .

　　Get up to see the sunrise ?The last thing this 14-year-old wants to do is leave a warm bed to see the sun rise . It's

freezing out there .

　　My 17-year-old sister pushes back her covers and sits up . I make a supreme effort and struggle out too . We grab my

father's World WAR II army blankets and wrap them tightly around our cotton nighties . Our pace is quick . One of us misses

catching the screen door .it slams .

　　Gingerly , we pick our way over slippery rocks and prickly pine needles , down 49 dewcovered log steps to the shore . We

catch our breath and look up . Across the lake , a sliver of brilliant red crests the top of the shadowed forest . It

silhouettes our mother on the lake shore , the first light catching the soft red of her hair .

"起床！快起床！"母亲对我细声耳语着。我一下子睁开了双眼，眼前闪现的是黎明前的灰暗。我睡意朦朦地环视着我家小木屋的那间安着纱门

纱窗的廊舍。这里就是我们度过数周夏日时光的地方。此刻，映入我眼帘的是草绿色廊舍秋千椅、白桦木腿的桌子、姐姐睡的单人床，还有那

熏黑了的煤油灯玻璃罩。我的脸上感受到清晨空气的凉爽。

　　我伸了个懒腰，在温暖的毯子里将身体蜷缩得更紧了。

　　 "起来吧！"母亲又小声地说着，"日出多美啊！"母亲轻轻地带上纱门，不让它发出砰声，然后向湖边走去。

　　起床就为了去看日出？对于一个14岁的孩子来说，此刻最不想做的就是离开暖乎乎的床去看太阳升起。外面实在太冷了。

　　17岁的姐姐掀开被子，坐了起来。我也一咬牙钻出了毛毯。我们俩一把拽过父亲在二次大战中用过的陆军毛毯，紧裹在棉睡衣外面，风风

火火地跑了出去。谁都没管带门，于是门砰的一声重重地关上了。

　 我们小心翼翼地走过滑溜的岩石，闪过那些多刺的松针，沿着被露水打湿的49级木台阶，向湖岸走去。我们歇了口气，抬头望去：在湖的那

一边，一抹耀眼的红色爬上了荫郁森林的顶端，映衬出母亲在湖岸的侧影；第一缕阳光洒在了她那浅红色的头发上。