Some mornings are a gift. Today, as I opened the curtains, above the hill across the valley from me the sun rose, a giant luminous, golden-red ball against the cloudy sky. Fine drifts of cloud across the face of the deep-pink-red ball just emphasized the intensity of the colour. I rushed inside to get a camera but of course my camera isn’t good enough to capture this exceptional site. Instead I stood and watched it as it rose slowly and disappeared into the denser clouds.
Far above, the edges of clouds still carried a tint of rose-pink, the last remnants of sunrise. The birds sang and far-away laughing voices drifted on the quiet morning air. The day began.
Some mornings are a gift. Today as I opened the curtains, above the hill across the valley, the sun rose, a giant luminous, golden-red ball against the cloudy sky. Fine drifts of cloud across the face of the deep-pink-red orb just emphasized the intensity of the colour. I rushed inside to get a camera but of course my camera couldn’t capture this. Instead I stood and watched it as it rose slowly and disappeared into the denser clouds.
Far above, the edges of clouds still carried a tint of rose-pink, the last remnants of sunrise. The birds sang and far-away laughing voices drifted on the quiet morning air. The day began.