I prefer sunrises over sunsets. If you were to superimpose a sunrise on top of a sunset at the perfect time, you would see an image that could be either: sunrise or sunset.
Sunrises open up what will be instead of closing down what was. The sunrise beckons us to face the day. It demands it. “Son, rise,” it says in a soothing, blue, pink, orange voice.
Sunrises shower us in light after sunsets have draped us in darkness. Just when I think I can endure the darkness of the night no longer, the sunrise is the hero that swoops in at the last minute to save me. I know that I’ll always be okay in the arms of a sunrise.
I write to find light when it’s dark. After witnessing about 36,500 sunrises, I hope to leave a mark. This blog seeks to illuminate what happens between sunrise and sunset.