In the east, the sun creeps up on the horizon, a soft but brilliant yellow that blends gently into the blue. Not wishing to be outdone, the Western horizon responds with mauve, pink, and violet hues of spectacular quality. The water, still as glass, picks up on the competition, colour bursts forth off the water, I’m entirely surrounded in marvellous light.
I notice ripples in the water, two otters swim by; it’s usually a seal, but not today; they remind me of best friends out for a morning stroll. Together, almost whisker to whisker, they navigate False Creek. Otters swim heads angled skyward, so they seem to be enjoying the beauty all around just like me.
It’s fall. The air is fresh and crisp. The snap in the air makes me feel alive. This morning even the seagulls are having pleasant conversations. The people who pass by as I sit on my bench are extra friendly. Some even stopping to chat for a moment or two. With the morning masterpiece all around, it’s easy to see why everyone’s mood is up. In these sacred moments of such stellar beauty, it’s hard not to feel something special in my gut. What is it? It’s joy mixed with hope sprinkled with an undeniable sense of appreciation for the experience of life. This deeper awareness must be why I believe in God. I think it’s written somewhere that the heavens declare God’s glory, and the sky shows His handiwork. Whoever wrote that might have been on to something.
The eastern sky now pulls out its trump card. The golden globe has pierced the horizon. It’s shimmering rays reach into the city, grabbing hold of the skyline. Windows everywhere pop with colour. They become miniature versions of the sun, reflecting it’s glory in all directions. The western sky can’t complete; it retreats into blue.
The day is here, and I am happy.
