I have always enjoyed a good sunrise. There’s something so majestic in watching the day begin with a burst of color and light, encouraging us that the day ahead can be as incredibly beautiful as that sunrise.
Since I stopped driving to an office, I’ve missed quite a few sunrises. Our master bedroom window faces directly west—there is no dramatic streaks of pinks and oranges while the light returns. Instead, the color turns from dark to charcoal to light grey to simply daylight.
I’ve found that I like to watch the day break from the west as much if not more than from the east. Even for morning people like me, most days don’t begin with majesty and beauty. They begin slowly, subtly, allowing you to acknowledge that today is a day and it will be beautiful in its own way, even if it’s just seems mundane and even if it’s not apparent immediately.