Dusk and dawn are two sides of the same coin—sunlight refracted by the atmosphere, the same colors and intensity of light, but in reverse order of appearance.
I have long been a fan of sunsets. We hear a lot about rainbows—the Bible says they are a sign of God’s promise not to destroy the world by flood again. He seems to be leaving that task up to us, now, as we saturate the air with CO2, melt the ice caps. I think sunsets are a much more hopeful sign.
You never know what the sky will look like as we rotate in and out of sunlight. Sometimes it is gold and rosy, sometimes clouds completely blot out the spectacle, and sometimes the sky is so perfectly clear that the sun just plops under the horizon. But a beautiful sunset, when you get a chance to see it, can fill you with peace. If you’re not starving, and you have a comfortable bed somewhere, a sunset gives hope that tomorrow will be better—if not immediate tomorrow, the very next day, then the future, however distant.
Dawn was not often my cup of tea in the first half of my life. I preferred to sleep in. And when I did arise early, it was because I had something to do. I was full of purpose, on a mission, no time to meditate on the horizon. As a child, I clung so stubbornly to my bed that I never had time for breakfast and was often late for school. As a solution, my father took to waking me before sunrise, to engage me in some task, feeding the chickens, tending to the horses, milking the cows. That was fun, and I was ready for school on time. One summer, I joined the swim team, and the sun was usually a bright red ball on the horizon as my mother drove us to practice.
I have become more of a dawn person in my later years, in retirement. A major activity each day is a long morning walk with my husband and our dogs, before the heat of the day sets in. But I still prefer sunsets, looking across the Indian River Lagoon with a glass of wine, as we look forward to a good night’s sleep, with pleasant dreams.
Dusk and dawn look very different, depending on where you are. From the west coast of Zanzibar, sunset is breath-taking. But on the east coast, it is dawn that inspires awe. Long before the sun rises from the sea, its light can play through tall thunder clouds and patchy rain showers. The orange orb turns yellow, then becomes too bright for our eyes, as it burns away the mist, bakes the sand on the beach.
Dawn is a fire breathing dragon, that cremates last night’s dreams and nightmares.
