There are few things in this world as beautiful as a sunrise. Some would argue that the difference between a sunrise and a sunset isn’t that significant. I find it is.
On a normal day I wake up around 7 or 8 am, and rarely see the sun rise and part the darkness with the first beems of light. I rarely experience the subtle understanding between the morning larks on the bus, or feel the morning breeze on my skin. This morning was different. When the alarm went off it was still night, not a sign of the sun anywhere. Orion had moved to the South and everything was still. As I got on the train, the sun had come so close to the horizon, that it turned the velvet black sky cobber green and soft peach. The clouds stod as lead grey giants at the brim of the horizon, and the mist covered the fields in their magic vail. The sea was quewering as if it was about to wake its sleep.