Light in Colorado and Tennessee

Colorado days awaken with a crisp breeze.  One that draws you forward and whispers of possibility—the same whispers, I imagine, that inspire the saying “the mountains are calling, and I must go.” The air there is filled with the familiar smells of tall evergreens, spring water refined by snow, scorched dust, and a spirit of adventure. It echoes across the mountains at sunrise, inviting those who greet the day to follow the light as it opens the sky to shades of purple.

Tennessee days, however, prefer to take their time, and the morning slowly stretches as it rises, gently tending to everything it passes. The air here nourishes with a patience that is thick with life. It lingers to enjoy the simple pleasures and wonders over the ways of the world.  Sunrise, too, arrives unhurried, humming a quiet, cheerful song as it sets about its daily work. It steadies the sky with the warm and social shades of a campfire, reassuring those within reach as it settles into the day.

Both sunrises and sunsets captivate us because, for a sliver of time, the sky rebels against the norm.  In these moments, the sun does not simply serve our needs. It plays.  It announces its entrance or sings its goodbyes until tomorrow—celebrating its own fire and power.  That is one lesson we can learn from the edges of each day.

Another considers the unseen details—an understanding of the inner workings of light and the particles diverting it from its original trajectory.  This knowledge teaches us that without obstructions and imperfections in our world we cannot view the full spectrum of ourselves. In sunrises and sunsets, we glimpse what’s normally unseen and are invited to consider the possibility of something different and beautiful.  In the world and in ourselves.