Blanketed by darkness, the air is so frigid that it glistens; hanging on with all its might to maintain its icy grip with each passing minute.
But the sun rising is inevitable; revealing its power across the expanse with achingly slow patience.
As the light creeps through the sky, stretching from one horizon to the next, the first rays reach more than just the sky; thin and wispy ribbons of clouds are the first to give evidence to the new day. Their contrast to the lightening sky are the first strokes of this day's brush; the calling card of the artist; singing of possibilities so endless, and all by design.
The darkened shadows of the newly exposed treetops are the next in line to stand out, giving more definition to an uneven horizon.
Sunrise casts a veil between the sky and the earth, woven in brilliant threads that disperse the light into millions of tiny flashes; each sparkling as if the air itself was made up of the dust of all the diamonds of the world.
The dust settles where the sunlight lands; from behind the veil the wind sways the new horizon.
The cold and the dark are helpless here; bound to lose, but hanging on to their last moments as if they could change the inevitable.
The sun peeking over the horizon releases the veil, and gently drops it to the ground in a silent billowy show; sure to be missed if not witnessed.
As the veil descends to earth, the full and direct rays of the sun hit the top edges of the shadowed horizon, giving clear identification to all that marks the landscape. The needles of the pines brush up against the sky on the whim of the winds, the light revealing the glory of the colors and complexities of creation.
The darkness loses its grip. The light, as it shines brighter and higher in the sky, only shows its strength in its brilliant difference from the dark. The shadows only grow deeper and darker in their retreat, preventing any revelation of what it hides.
As the light hits the trees, with no veil to protect its fullness, creation becomes the veil.
Glory revealed... through colors... light and shadows... wind... shapes... sounds... movement... reflection.... purpose.
With everything now visible as a reflection of the expression of light, the darkness has no escape. The risen sun begins to illuminate formerly hidden places; revealing what's there, but without the distortion, without the cover, and without the deception that darkness can bring.
The winds, unseen, serve in their dual purposes of whisking away the vestiges of the shriveling dark, making room for and ushering in the light; light that filters through creation, and slips in where it will... bringing heat... bringing life.
