Sunrise; a time of day few city dwellers appreciate though many are awake, negotiating the vast metropolis maze to work. The lucky ones catch glimpses of the sky through train or car windows as the sun’s rays edge heavenwards, but most are underground on tubes or too engrossed in papers or Kindles to look up and see the beauty that surrounds them. Wispy threads of cloud shimmer pink against a backdrop of pure blue, like dancers on a stage, receiving scant attention though they glisten and gleam with all their might. Swallows dip and dive on the horizon, as blackbirds sing their morning songs to a waking world.
Sunset; made lazy by the exertions of the day the sun begins to sag against the sky, as commuters trudge with sympathetic legs to homes and bars and gyms to shake the remnants of the day. The pink which earlier ran in tributaries through the blue now forms great rivers that forge their way through a purple landscape. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder surely this is the moment we were destined to behold?
Sunrise and Sunset; I’ve always loved these times the best. Two moments in time when the possibilities of what’s to come and the knowledge of what’s gone before come into focus in a myriad of colour and light. Two moments in time when even unbelievers might believe what they are seeing is a little glimpse of Heaven.