A Land of Living Light


Every morning, the first thing I do is open my bedroom curtains to take a glance at the day. I rise early, usually before dawn at this time of year. When clouds obscure the horizon, all I can see is the darkness and I do not know how the day will begin. The view is not particularly inspiring… a tiny, fenced lawn gives on to flat fields bounded by hedgerows and young thorn trees. And yet, my room looks east, and whatever the day may offer, in that first moment I greet the light; a new day is beginning and the seasons are moving, slowly but inexorably in an eternal dance.


As I open the garden door for Ani, the air is fresh and cold. Those first few minutes begin to hint at what I will see. First light is a softening the sky and I can watch the silhouettes of the trees become visible against the darkness. Sometimes mist forms to hang in low veils over the fields and I watch its swirling birth. This morning I watched as the dew turned to frost and painted the garden white and saw the russet streak of a fox cross the fields.


And then the sun rose, and for a few minutes the sky was on fire; brilliant orange and black, streaked with gold. It does not last long. Once the sun rises above the hedge, the colours change and the sky shrouds its inner passion in virginal blue.


Most mornings I take the camera outside in a knowingly vain attempt to do justice to beauty. It is impossible… the lens can only capture the physical image; a tiny snapshot of a growing, ever-changing glory that is born but once and will never come again. It shows the terrestrial stasis of hedge and fence, brick and wood, but cannot capture the clarity of the air or its touch on the skin, the formation of ice crystals on every blade of grass or the vast arc of the sky that embraces the earth.


Every dawn is different. A daily miracle…a moment of breathless awe. Sometimes the sky is a pastel painting, sometimes aflame…and you can never predict what will happen. You can only wait and watch the moment unfold with the same reverence you feel in a sacred place.


It is at times like these that you feel your mortality, for every moment that passesΒ  is unique, every dancing mote of light touches you just once and, if missed, is gone forever. Yet, watching the ceaseless motion of earth and sky, weather and season, you feel your immortality too. You are part of this landscape of living light and it is part of you.


You change it by your presence… without your eyes, the morning would still be born, but it would be different. And it changes you too. Your day begins with a beauty so vast and so glorious that it lifts the heart. Whatever else may come, whatever darkness may follow, is dwarfed by its splendour and humbled by wonder.


Even when the dawn rises unseen beyond the dark clouds, still it rises. Its beauty may be hidden from view, but the light still grows to show the way.Β  Every morning hope is reborn with the sun…and every day is a new beginning full of infinite possibilities.


About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at scvincent.com and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email: findme@scvincent.com.
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61 Responses to A Land of Living Light

  1. jenanita01 says:

    I don’t get to see such glorious sunrises, Sue, so thank you for sharing yours…


  2. Sadje says:

    You’re lucky to have such amazing view to wake up to. You have said it so well. Anyone lucky to witness such miracles daily is indeed affected positively by it.


  3. beth says:

    I am an early morning person too, and love to look outside to greet the day, whatever it looks like.


  4. Mary Smith says:

    Thanks for sharing your beautiful dawn photos, Sue. I’m not a morning person so it’s usually sunsets I marvel at.


  5. What stunning photos. They really lifted me. Thanks, Sue xx


  6. Fabulous pictures Sue. We had some beautiful sunrises and sunsets when we were on the boat, especially when we were out on the river. We’ve seen in the dawn here which was spectacular, but you’re right, the camera only captures the image not the essence of the day.


  7. I must admit to missing the glory of the dawn….most mornings, but thank you for sharing yours, I feel the better for it…β™₯


  8. Wonderful images of the rising sun. We’re on a flat lot surrounding by trees so we miss the full splendor of the rising and setting sun.


  9. willowdot21 says:

    Beautiful photos and words of wisdom πŸ’œ


  10. joylennick says:

    Just beautiful, Sue. The sight and description…Here in Spain, from our living room or patio, it faces east and I’ve witnessed some glorious treats from nature. From ‘sherbet dab’ and raspberry ripple effects to – what I call ‘rhubarb and custard’ skies. Gorgeous! Some mornings – beyond the waving palms when the sky is unsure and the clouds are tipped with gold – it’s truly inspiring. Aren’t we lucky! Truly blessed. x


  11. These pictures are wonderful, Sue. You did a good job of capturing some of the amazement.


  12. Seeing all those photos in a long stream gives such a wonderful glimpse of the vast array of colors. What beautiful dawns. We are socked in by trees, but at this time of year, with the leaves on the ground, I get eyefuls of lavender, amber, pink, and gold. On Monday, I raced to the top of the mountain and got there just on time to see a glorious sunrise. Lovely post, Sue.


  13. Eliza Waters says:

    While not a very early riser, this time of year I am more apt to see the dawn. What I marvel at is how the point of sunrise shifts with each passing day, forming a wide arc from solstice to solstice.


  14. Widdershins says:

    As it has since the beginning and will unto the end … will we or nil we. πŸ™‚ … but it’s so nice that we get to see a goodly bunch throughout our lives. πŸ˜€


  15. queadrian says:

    I like your writing. All the photos are beautiful.πŸ‘πŸŒΉ


  16. Adele Marie says:

    A beautiful post, Sue. xxx


  17. Pingback: Smorgasbord Blogger Daily Thursday 14th November 2019 – #Review Noelle A. Granger, #Dawn Sue Vincent and #Tarot an Sikes | Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

  18. dgkaye says:

    Beautiful Sue. Nothing to see here in the beautiful dawns – but when in Mexico – breathtaking. ❀


  19. Pingback: Smorgasbord Blogger Daily Thursday 14th November 2019 – #Review Noelle A. Granger, #Dawn Sue Vincent and #Tarot Jan Sikes | Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

  20. I’ve always thought sunrise was THE best time of the day. I have lost my view now, so I sleep better, but I miss the early light.


  21. macjam47 says:

    I am a morning person and share your love of dawn’s glow. A beautiful post with your lovely photos.


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