As I sit down to write, the sky is on my mind. The sun is just beginning to rise and transform the sky from pale and rich pink, rosy and bright, to vibrant orange and peach. It's not only on my mind, but shining on my face, lighting up my body, right here in front of me. And here it comes! Sparkling yellow, glittering brighter than a diamond, it rises up the horizon. This jeweled sun, how brilliantly wonderful! I must stop and find my camera.
I found a camera, but I'm pretty sure I could not capture it well enough. It is changing now and that is okay. All beauty transforms: "Nothing gold can stay."* A new beauty will appear in the days when Christ returns. Oh, twilight, I'm sad for you now. Perhaps a storm is coming―solemn gray is the sky above the sun.
*A poem by Robert Frost