The people say that the sun dances on this day in joy for
a risen Saviour. The following poem was written by Barbara Macphie at
Dreimsdale who saw this once, but only once, during her long life. She
describes it in poetic language and with religious fervour what she saw.
"The glorious gold-bright sun was after rising on the crests of the
great hills, and it was changing color - green, purple, red, blood-red,
white, intense-white, and gold-white, like the glory of the God of the
elements to the children of men. It was dancing up and down in exultation
at the joyous resurrection of the beloved Saviour of victory.
"To be thus privileged, a person must ascend to the top of the highest
hill before sunrise, and believe that the God who makes the smallest blade
of grass to grow is the same God who makes the large, massive sun to move."