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The Light of Day



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Morning: It starts slowly, gradually. The sky turns a dark blue that fades into ever lighter shades till             finally, finally the first ray of sunlight appears. The air is still cold, as is the morning                        breeze that creates shivers down the spine. But there is light. It’s instantly warm where                it touches the skin and chases away the demons of the night. All is possible in that one        instant. No action taken, no consequences inflicted. Nothings determined. It’s luck; it’s                hope; it’s prosperity and mystery. It’s the beginning.


Day:         The heat of day is demanding. Where a single ray of sunlight creates pleasure, the entire               force of the sun brings giants to their knees. It’s too much, too powerful to take in at                            once and it burns. Hiding is the first instinct. Shut it all out; don’t let it touch and it’ll all           be over soon. At the right dosage it becomes bearable. Water, shade and the prospect of         the cool of night help. And suddenly it’s not too much any longer. No need to hide no
need for protection. Every bit of light is more beautiful than the last and it seems endless.The night seems so far away that maybe, just maybe this time it won’t come. That this time the light, the joy, the warmth and the beauty may stay forever.


Evening:  The evening is the highlight. It starts with the sunset. The wealth of colours it creates       in the sky is more than a million paintings could ever hold. The horizon in the east turns         purple while the few clouds in the west turn orange and red with a fiery white circle in                 the centre that is slowly swallowed by the ground. Everything is still warm and excited.            The complexity of feelings it creates is impossible to put into words. Life flourishes in the           fading light. It doesn’t stop when the sun is gone. Its light is replaced by a myriad of fires,              candles and lamps that extend the moment. A colourful dance that conquers the                          darkness. It builds up to a climax so invigorating, so transcendently beautiful that all is         forgotten and nothing matters but the here and now.

And then it stops.

Night:      It’s dark. The darkness crept up, while the fires were still bright and the dance was at its                climax. Unnoticed or ignored but inevitable. In an instant the whole world turns
around. It’s cold. All the warmth, all the excitement vanish. Just like that. What’s left is
emptiness. The memories of the feelings of the day just intensify the pain caused by their
loss. It’s silent. No more chatter, no more cheering or laughter just silence. All that
remains is the hope that there will be another day, And with it another brief period of joy
before an equally dark and long night.

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