Dawn minutes

There is a quality to early morning light that defies description.  Or perhaps it is that the early morning sky doesn't have a colour with a name.  It isn't gray, it isn't blue, it isn't black, it is somewhere in between. It just is lighter.  

There is an expectancy to early morning light, a sense that something is about to happen, but it isn't yet. Time hangs on the gentle balance between night and day.

Soon enough the east will be suffused in soft peach that grows richer with each passing minute.   It slips to hot pink and then the sky will flash with orange and the sun will crest the horizon and day will begin.  

Till then I'm just going to sit here, and watch and dream that I have endless moments.