Every day I wake to the sunrise, to the sun’s sleepy glow in the hazy sky.
The sky is pink and the hills are blue. Fog banks roll over the hills’ edges like ocean foam. The trees are only dark silhouettes. Their green shades will lighten as the sunlight brightens.
It’s a beautiful sight.
It’s a beautiful sunrise. Every morning that I wake to it, I am grateful. I marvel at its beauty every morning.
And the first bird of the morning begins to sing.