Over at the west quarter of the sky, a dark, deep blue expanse lingered. But signs of dawn were materializing across the heavens towards where the Sun would make its first appearance around an hour later. A collection of stars yet dazzled brightly in the 6:30am sky. Venus was clearly visible too, larger and more circular than its twinkling neighbours. A half moon hung in the canopy directly above, a soft glow emanating exactly around its circumference.
Panning across the morning panorama was like being in two places at once. The dark of night on the right, smoothing out into the light blue tinged with yellows, oranges and pinks signifying the new dawn, on the left.
One cannot fully appreciate a sunrise until one has waited through the dark.
The miracle of observing the mechanisms of night transforming into day with ones own eyes is definitely the best way to start a day.
The flowers wait silently each night, through long, dark hours, to eventually suck up and soak in the first, purest shafts of sunlight at daybreak. I envisioned them taking a long, deep breath and slowly releasing, being energised and nourished by the power of the Sun.
If being at one with nature is experiencing what nature experiences, then I've participated gladly this morning. I know how the flowers feel. Waiting through the dark to catch the first glimpse of light is a miracle of the ages, just as powerful, just as rewarding today, as ever.
Behold the delicate intricacies of this unusually stunning flower.
*If one thinks the day of miracles is over, one must simply arise a little earlier*