There is something terrifyingly humbling about witnessing the sun set then rise at 35,000ft in the air.
On my journey home from Washington, I watched the sun set over the world. It darkened slowly, growing redder, as the seconds ticked by. We flew parallel to it. I saw it as it truly was: the molten colours seeping through the clouds, burning up the landscape, turning lakes into pools of lava and snowcapped mountains into flaming turrets.
And then it was gone. The sun was set. The ball of fire no longer there. And yet the colours lingered, as if too pretty a sight to erase it completely. They faded through the minutes, finally surrendering to the darkness and the city lights. These glistened like diamond facets in a lump of coal. To know something beautiful and worthwhile was among the darkness; much like a jeweller would feel towards his rock. Turning something primitive and raw, into a stunning work of art.
Then hours later, a peek under the blind and the colours burned again, fiercer than the setting. The contrast was stark. Black, blue, red. That was it. Variations of these colours between, but nothing weak. No washed out colours. No subtlety. The sun was rising and it was making a statement as it did it. These colours lingered well above the rising fire. It was long before I saw the sun itself, as if letting the colours strike anticipation, excitement, impatience into the onlookers. Me. I looked around to see if anyone was bearing witness to this natural phenomenon, but no. People struggle to see beauty in the norm nowadays. So I watched on alone, admiring the beauty that was mine and mine alone. The plane wing was silhouetted in my sight, giving even more contrast as the colours roared on.
I’ll admit I never saw the actual sun rise, but the colours, the prequel to the appearance, I believe was much more spectacular than could have been after. The light of the sun would surely have dulled the striking contrast and I only wanted that. The fire.
But do you see it how I did? How nature, am everyday scene, could mimic almost how we live our lives? The setting: the way the sun transformed the scenery into something more incredible…Then fades away, leaving only the r eminent of colour to burn until darkness consumed it.
Love: the way it veils our sight and makes everyday seem more stunning. Then it ends and the memories glisten bright until we forget…The darkness seeping in to replace with the occasional diamond in the dust.
Then there’s the rising: the way the colours burned bright, fierce, making it nearly impossible to resist.
Again, like love: as it starts, the passion, the lust, the fire for one another. Anticipation. Excitement. Impatience.
Humbled. There are bigger things out there than I can ever comprehend. These beautiful sights, so frequently missed by our everyday grind, can teach us one or 2 lessons. The sun always rises. It always sets as well
But with every setting comes a new dawn. This is life. The beginning. The ending. The rebirth. Never forget that good things come after darkness. And even when the darkness is long and heavy, look for the facets in the cold hard rock.
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