The sunrise this morning felt less like a quiet revelation unfolding over water. Bands of violet, amber, and soft fire moved across the horizon so gently that even the shoreline seemed to pause beneath it. Standing there, watching the reflection gather itself in the inlet below, I felt the strange grace of witnessing a moment before the world fully awakened.
When Memory Choses Color 2026©Ocean Eversley
Morning did not break.
It gathered slowly
over the water,
as if the sky were relearning
the shape of light.
The shoreline remained dark
for a little while longer,
holding the last blue language of night
while gold moved carefully
through the clouds.
Across the bay, windows and rooftops
slowly entered the language of dawn.
And there, in the May cool air,
with the tide carrying light
toward itself,
memory chose color—
a quiet fire
resting on the surface of morning.