I would like to describe a morning spent at the house I
watched with my sister last week. The house is studded all around with large
windows, allowing an excellent view in all four directions.
Wintery Eastern Mountains slowly lighten from the dark blue
of dawn. This is where the horizon is first touched with color, going from deep
black to light blue over the course of the morning.
The early light brushes the white top of Mt. Nebo with soft
pink, and then tints the deserty West Mountains a dark saffron from top to
bottom, going on to illuminate the towns, hills, and ponds below.
Finally, the light slowly creeps across the valley. It’s
almost imperceptible when it reaches this house. First the juniper hill at the
Western fence line is illuminated, then the closely shorn hayfield, and
suddenly there is no line of light, no shadow of the mountain to block out the
sun.
After the sun has risen over the mountains ringing this
valley, everything is bathed in light, and most people are already going about
their short day in this warm winter.
