I start in darkness with only the pin-pricked sky and the moon as my companion. My footsteps are tentative. I long for the shadows to be scattered. But it seems somehow wrong to shine an artificial light. And so I move forward carefully, confident that the path will be made clear soon enough.

I have had a love affair with the sunset for a long time, ever since my dear friend Jill yelled for me to “come outside and see this” all those years ago. I remember the feeling of seeing something so familiar with what felt like new eyes. How could I have missed it all this time?! Since then the dimming light, with its myriad of hues have been a consistent inspiration.

And now, the sunrise! Oh, the sunrise has become a new love of mine.

For the last month, I have been walking across northern Spain on the Camino de Santiago, on a spiritual pilgrimage. Since I was mostly walking in August, the plan each day was to complete the allotted kilometers before the midday sun blared down. This meant that the early morning became a familiar landscape.

The day starts in the dark. I pack my backpack, and set off into the night, soon to be daylight. My eyes adjust to the low light and soon I am walking more confidently, sure that my feet will meet the graveled ground.

And then, the change is often imperceptible; the light slowly changes, creeping across the horizon. The air glows as the landscape prepares for the sun’s arrival.

Because the way always heads westward, I must turn around to see the spectacle of that ball of light peeking over the horizon.

I never get tired of this; turning around again and again to see how much the sun has risen. It never gets old.

Whereas the “night” in which I’d been walking had seemed so long, the light seems to arrive all at once, bathing the world with its delicate light.

The path that once seemed unknowable now lays unfurled before me. The way lies ahead. And the light shines around me.

-Eyes wide open, Chinwe