My mornings are simple, quiet–it is often a time of reflection for me. I have never been much of a morning person, but there is something magical about the sunrise and how it casts light through the darkness, breaks the clouds, and inspires us. There is something about that light that brings a smile to my face every morning. Having children has made me a morning person, whether I fall asleep early or late. I am always awake for the sunrise.

From my kitchen window, I saw the rays of the sun hitting the clouds and showering the world in an orange-pink glow. It was beautiful, and I had to try to capture the light. Phone cameras are limited and grainy, but the final product is perfect. It is poetry for our eyes–it is raw and filled with the emotions of the moment. Well posed and articulated photos are usually preferred, but the primitive features of a smartphone camera have their place in the early morning or the late hours, in the laughter and the tears of private conversations, in the sharing of intimate moments with friends you haven’t seen in years.

The clouds were otherworldly this morning. They were waves in the sky, breaking against each other, flirting with the sunlight and dancing across the blue expanse above.

The moon, in all of her glory, hung in the Western sky, offering a final kiss to her lover across the world, watching as he rose and she was forced set, forced to hide until the next time their fingers could reach out and touch for the briefest of moments. The clouds were wrapped around her like a blanket, soothing her broken heart–how I wish I could have been held in the clouds, wrapped in their billowing and wispy arms. How comforting to know that the same clouds your lover illuminated were there to lull you into sleep.


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