Tag Archives: sunset

The Gift of the Sun

When was the last time you looked up into the sky as if you were a young child, in awe of nature, believing everything up there was pure magic?

I do it at least twice a day. Sunrise and sunset.

Throughout the rest of the day, sometimes a cloud pattern or group of birds will catch my attention but it is the sunrise and sunset which capture my soul.

This morning, I awoke to a blushing sky, pale pink expanding across a barely lit atmosphere as the sun caressed the wisps of clouds drifting through the atmosphere just beyond the trees at the edge of the field across the road. Pale pink gave way to a golden glow, setting the naked trees afire, eventually dancing across the icy snow at their feet.

A lone black bird soared to one of the larger trees, settling in the highest branch, clinging hold as the wind waved him to and fro. Traffic echoed just below, an invasion of the solitude of the dawn cascading across the sky.

Most of the morning was filled with blue, then this afternoon, the clouds expanded, obfuscating the joy promised us by the bright blue sky in the midst of a dreary winter. But the evening sky apologized for this infraction, providing a spectacular range of colours as the sun nestled into the other side of the world.

Corals, reds, purples, blues, greys, they all mingled together just below the houses at the edge of the field, the sort of sunset which one can only witness with eyes and not capture on film.

Although I have bemoaned the existence of a sub-zero winter and being buried in far too many inches of snow, it has brought some of the most phenomenal sunrises and sunsets I have ever witnessed, including those I saw as a young child growing up near the beach.

Witnessing a sunrise and a sunset is a gift. It is sheer magic. Both a re-affirmation of life, of finding the beauty in the littlest things. It’s as if our entire day has a bookend of amazing art on either end. To ignore it, to not take the few minutes it exists and stare at it as if you are four years old again and the world is made of magic is foolish.

If I don’t take the time to do witness the beauty that is the sunrise and sunset, my day feels empty. The colours fade so quickly, the magic even faster. Sometimes I may sleep through the sunrise (who doesn’t on occasion), but on those days, I am sure to take in the state of the sky before I do anything else – even reach for my phone. The sky is the first thing I focus on when my eyes wake in the morning. It’s also the last thing I look at before I go to bed – I look for stars, for the moon, for clouds… and now that I am sleeping with the blinds opened, if I wake in the middle of the night, I get to see the moon as it drifts through the onyx sky.

Do yourself a favour this next week. Take the time to look up at the sky with the wonder of a child who hasn’t been jaded by the responsibilities of a fast-paced world. Breathe in the artistry and beauty right in front of you. Drink it in, commit it to memory, to your heart. For if you carry beauty in your heart, there won’t be room for much else.

I’ll take my front yard over Calgon any day….

After a particularly stressful weekend of Cameron screaming his way through it and the girls well, being toddlers, I made it a point to slow down today. You wouldn’t know it though because I did three loads of dishes and laundry (no, I didn’t FOLD the laundry.. that’s for tomorrow), cooked a wonderful rosemary dijon pork roast with carrot souffle, green beans, and stuffing. YUM. And for dessert, we made gum drops. (Jello cut into shapes and dusted with powdered sugar) See.. fun stuff!

After dinner, I decided to fix myself a cup of tea once I had finished cleaning up. Took the tea to the front porch and sat on our bench swing to watch Nature settle in for the evening. I am still breathless and amazed at everything I quietly witnessed.

Bees buzzed, birds chirped and called to one another, squirrels played tag in the gigantic pines, children down the road squealed in delight and called to one another, walkers strode by and bicyclists zoomed past. I watched the goats at the farm across the street scurry toward dinner and felt wind that was stirred up by two birds flying through our front porch. But the most captivating of all was a tiny brown creature with long ears and a twitching nose. A wild bunny rabbit sat in our front yard eating dinner. I sipped my tea slowly and watched as the bunny sniffed and chewed, occasionally stopping to scratch it’s ear. As he slipped away across the yard, he stopped to clean his face. Well-mannered little thing, I thought. The sun continued to slide down behind the trees, leaving an orange glow wrapped around the stand of pine trees in our yard. This glow illuminated all the flying insects and made them seem magical, almost surreal. And that my friends, is why I will take my front yard over Calgon any day!