Sunrise
I wanted to end off this first section of Stories with a piece about hope and light. "Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, when one only remembers to turn on the light." - Albus Dumbledore, "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban"
6:13am
After being in the dark for so long, it's hard to find the light again. It often seems as if there is no light at the end of the tunnel. Just eternal darkness. Then, the light starts to emerge. The light is forgiving. It is a warm autumn sun on your face. The bright rays of a spring sun creeping out from behind a cloud. The sunrise on the beach. Looking out at the ocean, seeing rays of light and color bouncing off the water. The sunrise is the emergence of light. It allows you to be vulnerable for only a moment longer. It means there is hope for you yet. "Hope is the thing with feathers." Emily Dickinson said that. It's the first seagull crying out at first light. It's the pelicans diving for fish at dawn. The sunrise shows the truth but in a kinder light. It is I'm not okay, but I will be. The sunrise harbors hope. And hope flies around in your soul, filling you up. The sunrise is the light at the end of a tunnel. A new day. A fresh start. A second chance. It's dancing with your friends in the waves, smiling and splashing each other. It's doing cartwheels on the beach and laughing when you fall over. It's floating with your eyes closed in the swells. It's dancing in the sand to a song only you can hear. It's knowing that no matter what, there will be hope. It's not quite joy, yet not fully sorrow either. The sunrise is melancholy beauty. The sunrise is another chance.