November Morning Sun?

I know there is such a thing as a harvest moon, the way the full moon looks at the end of the summer or early in the fall. When I lived in New Mexico I fully became aware of that one night when I rode home to White Rock, the suburb without a city, from my job at the lab in Los Alamos. I was headed east on Pajarito Rd when just before diving down the one-mile hill that's part of it (and where I once saw 57 m/h indicated on my computer--still my all-time speed record) I looked up to see this huge, bright yellow moon climb out from behind the Sangre de Christo mountains on the other side of the wide, Rio Grande valley. It was a stunning sight, one I looked for every time there was a full moon the remainder of my year there, but in vain. I was on the same bike yesterday morning as on that Friday evening in October 1994--my 1992 yellow Trek 2300: carbon for the main triangle, aluminum front and rear forks, still going strong--when I had a somewhat similar experience, but this time with the rising sun. It had been a wet and windy week. Wednesday it got so wild that even though I had braved the wind in the morning, I didn't feel like dealing with an even stronger wind on the way home, also because in the course of the day it had started to rain. Plus I would have had to get through it all after dark. Instead, I walked to the train, and came back to the city the next day using public transportation also. Thursday was a little calmer, and by the end of the day it had started to clear. Friday morning was plain bright, and it was light well before the sun had come up. So I wasn't thinking of the sun, the way I often do on a clear morning, probably also because there was no orange glow where I normally look for it leaving town. But approaching my turn-off onto the Diemen-Bussum highway, about 2.5 miles into my ride I just happened to glance over to the east, in part because that's where I was about to go. And there it was: a gigantic pinkish sun, only about one-fifth above the tree line between the Ankeveense plassen and the Ankeveense molen. I can't remember ever seeing the sun this wide, or this pink. There were only a few minutes before my route headed west again, along the Vecht toward Weesp. But in the meantime I was able to see it rise almost fully above the horizon, and it was a sight to behold. Partly to get another look I continued along the Vecht toward Muiden past Weesp, because on that section I'd have some easy glances eastward again. By that time, about ten minutes later, the sun was well clear above the horizon and quite a bit smaller, but it was still fairly easy to look at--not very bright at all, in spite of the clear morning. It's not something you expect to see, this time of year in Holland. But I did, and so it was a good week on the bike after all.