Change and Constancy

Flat, cold, asleep; the earth lies untouched by the warmth of rays.
Featureless but for pools of deep velvet, the land reveals not her secrets.
Jagged white-capped peaks suddenly thrust upwards and her first wonder is revealed.
Golden peach hues hug the dark smoky blue horizon, promising light and warmth, teasing the senses.
Hues hang heavenward, longingly, lingering in anticipation of the change to come.
Lights gathered together for comfort and safety appear nested in a valley along a ribbon of intense, cold blue.
The horizon’s light muddies; its passion dulled. Smoky clouds hold its light at bay, finally engulfing it in the moment of dawning.
A single strand of crisp blue is revealed.
A solitary line of dazzling light appears.

Day has awakened.

Water, land, islands, flora and civilization breathe themselves into the dawn. Another interval of reality blooms into consciousness.
Awakening to warmth, the slumbering land exhales and shrugs off the fog, now drifting slowly upward, exhausting itself in the new day’s eagerness.
Colors slip slowly down mountain peaks and in due course seep into the abyss of yawning gorges.
Change has come to this part of the planet, moving stealthily along until the entire planet awakens, and then returns to sleep each a scant half day later.

Night falls.

Change is the only constancy.