I have been mesmerised by the beauty of the sky each afternoon this week, as the sun has set and and the colours have moved through a delicate palette of golds and oranges. On Monday I was driving from Berkshire back down to Devon, and once I had passed through the difficulty of driving into very bright and low sunlight at Bristol, I revelled in the rest of the journey, enveloped in its glow.
This morning I determined to photograph the morning sky from our window, which again reminded me of fragile strips of tissue paper, layered across the horizon. As I captured this image an Advent hymn resonated in my mind, written by Henry Burton.
There’s a light upon the mountains,
and the day is at the spring,
When our eyes shall see the beauty
and the glory of the King;
Weary was our heart with waiting, and
the night-watch seemed so long,
But His triumph-day is breaking, and
we hail it with a song.
