I’ll Tell You How The Sun Rose

I’ll tell you how the Sun rose –
A Ribbon at a time –
The Steeples swam in Amethyst –
The news, like Squirrels, ran –

The Hills untied their Bonnets –
The Bobolinks – begun –
Then I said softly to myself –
“That must have been the Sun”!

But how he set – I know not –
There seemed a purple stile
That little Yellow boys and girls
Were climbing all the while –

Till when they reached the other side –
A Dominie in Gray –
Put gently up the evening Bars –
And led the flock away –

This wonderful poem by Emily Dickinson inspired me when I first read it in my late teens, and it still inspires me today.

The photograph was taken from my village, Morchard Bishop in Devon, looking at Dartmoor in the distance.

Devon A Light

The sky pinks and oranges

With red

Celebrations

After a stormy night

And in imagination I’m led

By nature and a million words

Which in the silence I have heard

That might

Set Devon all

A light.

Photograph: sunrise from Morchard Bishop, Winter 2025

Mist and Sunrise

From Wroxeter, Shropshire…

Mist and sunrise
And the surprise is
That the sun returns
After so many months of darkness
To light us the way to life
In all fulness.

The Darkness Opening Into Morning

Mary Oliver wrote these beautiful lines:

“…the darkness opening into morning
Is more than enough…

Think of Sheba approaching
the kingdom of Solomon.
Do you think she had to ask,
‘Is this the place?'”
from ‘I wake close to morning’

I find dawn a wonderful, magical time in Shropshire, at all times of year. This photo of The Wrekin was taken one early morning in August. Now it is May there is are the countless songs and calls of the birds’ daily dawn chorus.

As she says – “more than enough”!

The Wrekin at Dawn

Simply a Colourful Wrekin Sunrise

And there is no need to add any more words!

Gratefulness

David Steindl-Rast is not a well-known writer in the UK but his book Gratefulness is the best I’ve read on this topic. He shares a childhood experience, surviving bombing raids in Nazi-occupied Austria:

“…Unable to find an air-raid shelter quickly, I rushed into a church only a few steps away. To shield myself from shattered glass and falling debris, I crawled under a pew … I felt sure that the vaulted ceiling would cave in any moment and bury me alive…A steady tone of the siren announced the danger was over … And there I was, stepping out into a glorious May morning … My eyes fell on a few square feet of lawn in the midst of all this destruction. It was as if a friend had offered me an emerald in the hollow of his hand. Never before or after have I seen grass so surprisingly green.”
p.10

Recently I was commuting to work on a quiet spring morning, and I passed the most extraordinary scene shown in the photograph. You do not always need a near-death experience to feel gratitude! But how many people drove out of Shrewsbury that morning and did not stop to gaze in awe at the sunrise?

Mist was rolling mysteriously down the river. The trees were silhouetted. And a bright March sun illuminated the whole scene, rising over The Wrekin.

Brother David Stendl-Rast helped to set up a beautiful website devoted to gratefulness, and you can visit it here.

And look out for those surprising moments that fill our hearts with gratitude!

The New Life of the Spring

The new life of the spring seems to have the power to inject energy and new life within us all.

This amazing sunrise had to be photographed: the swirling mists over the Severn at Atcham, the amazing light that illuminated the whole world, it seemed, in a burst of colour.

I had been looking for a suitable scene to go with a beautiful poem I had read recently called ‘Bazougey’ (the name of a dog).

Sadly, the dog has passed away, but when spring comes, it brings hope:

“Come with me into the woods where spring is
advancing … See how the violets are opening …
the streams gleaming…What does it make you think of?
His shining curls, his honest eyes, his
beautiful barking.”
from ‘Bazougey’ by Mary Oliver

I hardly need to add anything. But this spring sunrise also brought me some hope.

Inspired and Connected

What gets you excited, inspired and feeling connected?

For me, it can be something as simple as a sunrise!

I pass The Wrekin every day on my way to where I work. It can be cloudy, hidden by mist, ominous, and sometimes, as on this day, spectacular.

A reminder we are an integral part of our beautiful world, connnected, whether or not we choose to accept it, and whether we choose to destroy or preserve.

And who would choose not to defend a planet that we can be so connected to, and that can be so awe-inspiring?

“The Pleasures of the Body in This World”

Although life brings great challenges, there are also great joys.

Lent has begun but joy is not something that has to be given up!

There is a lovely Mary Oliver poem about her dog:

“…Running here, running there, excited…
the pleasures of the body in this world.
Oh, I could not have said it better myself.”
from ‘The Storm’

There is so much to be anxious and fearful about at the moment, but anxiety and fear themselves do not promote generosity and caring. We also need to be open-hearted and compassionate.

The photograph shows a recent sunrise in Shropshire, UK, over our most famous hill – The Wrekin.

The sun rose over the horizon just afterwards, but the colours of the sky gave me joy, as did the synchronicity of the flock of rooks who decided to move across the view in their contrasting dark silhouettes.

I felt the pleasure deep in my body, as we do other pleasures. And one of the things I am hoping to give up in Lent is any narrow-minded materialism that makes me forget my emotionality and spirituality, my joy, my pleasure in being human.

And I hope that will make me also a more caring and compassionate person.