The beauty of this photo is that the sun is hidden behind the clouds. The moment it rises above the clouds the definition and dimension of the clouds will be lost.
As the observer of many dawns I see the patterns of the clouds on the dawn horizon. Each day unique. Occasionally absent.
Several hours into the day if I look closely I might still be able to discern the same clouds. Yet their features have been diminished by the brilliance of the sun.
Sometimes we have too much light. The light from the sun can make us appear pale. Even washed out. The brilliance of another’s light might make us feel dull in our own. Of course, neither of these things are true, just as I know those dawn clouds are still there washed out by the brilliance of the sun.
Beauty lives in all the dimensions, from blinding light to shadows.
However it is in the contrast we get a story worth living. The contours and dimensions, the highs and lows…
Yet so often we make that contrast the focus of wrong. Black or white, young and old…
In my older years I am able to both celebrate youth and embrace wisdom. And sometimes I might know that on some dimension, my youth and my older self all exist simultaneously, that time itself is a story, just as the contrasts and contours are.
For now I have a deeper respect for the clouds.