The Particles of Corresponding Light Upon Her Face...

"I can't believe you talked me into this," She said in parched, early morning voice as she laid on the blanket spread over the sanded west-facing hill. She reached down gently and turned his hand over in hers and examined his fingers in the morning's light, so forthcoming.

"I figured you might like to see this in better weather conditions." He whispered. The sentence was spoke into her neck as he placed his face near hers. "That, and I figured now would be a good time to..."

"Wait look!" She pointed her finger to the western horizon, just below a crimson skyline that wafted above feathering purples and oranges and deepest reds.

"...Neat isn't it?" He asked, never taking his eyes from her.

"Yes it is." She said, folding her bottom lip into her mouth and staring at initial sliver of sun as it rose gently.

He watched her face awake slowly in the dusk light. Every particle of colored light that was casted now illuminated her face in corresponding colors. He saw every natural stage of the sun rising in the western sky reflecting in her eyes and he counted himself lucky, very lucky, to add a moment such as the unfolding moment before him to his mind's eye visions for eras to come.


The Sun rises in all its vase glory every-single-day; we let it bypass our sights, choosing to remain in bed or in our offices or simply choosing not to look for fear of the magnitude of a natural medium playing out before us... for fear of the grandeur of it, existing and replaying long after our time."