Sunrise
This one's for you
Pictures: dawn photographs taken on a rural hill in Lancashire on Monday 3rd Feb 2025. Pre-dawn the wide sky is pink with blue clouds and a glowing orange strip. Branches and trees are silhouetted black against the colours. As the sun rises pink fades to gold until the sun is visible casting an orange glow across the heathland and trees. Then there is a picture of me with my face to the light, eyes closed, drinking in the dazzle.
Dear you,
Where I used to live, I couldn’t see the sky and I couldn’t get up high. Now I can.
Sometimes, on a day where I really need one, a sunrise arrives. A gift.
A glimmer of awe-hope. And if I could share it with you too, I would.
If I could send you this sunrise, wrapped in paper and tape with your name on it, I would.
The sunrise is not a cure. A spectacular dawn won’t heal a wound. But it still does something necessary. A reprieve, a breath, a tenderness.
A genuine wow that consumes.
This is what I’d send you, if I could.
But I can show you.
We can walk together up the steep lane until we’re breathless from the climb and from the wideness and wildness of the gold-pink sky.
We can sit together on the crumbling wall with the coolness and the warmth of February dawn. We can allow it to dazzle us.
We’ll say, wow. This is quite a way to start a day.
And though the day will likely still be heavy and aching.
We started it with hope. And we’ll do our best to keep hold of it, imperfectly, for the remainder.
“So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay” - Robert Frost
Love, Janelle x
After two weeks of sunrises and glorious ocean sunsets, I’m back in Lincolnshire which is its most grey this morning. My soul is quiet, reflective rather than gloom-laden but your post has still sparked it to lift with joy, Joy that there have been bright dazzling mornings here too, joy at the anticipation they’ll be back soon, a noticing that it is already lighter in the morning here. And pausing to look out into the greyness I’ve noticed a new flourishing just beginning - the white of a crown of hellebores in a corner, a carpet of winter aconites appearing gold just below me, and peak of Bergenia pink and a few nodding heads of daffodils ready for the sunshine. Thank you.
So dreamy, thank you for sharing!