Why Does the Sun?

To watch the sunrise is more than to see it come over the horizon.  It’s a process that starts about an hour earlier when the black of night still commands, and the stars, its consorts. Then, almost imperceptibly, in one particular spot, the darkness is slightly diluted.  Then over the next few minutes like an ink stain, the dilution spreads.  Black to grey to red, then orange.  The night sky behind you has turned a paling blue without you noticing.  The sky in front continues to lighten…and then it stops.  For twenty minutes it seems the sun is in two minds. Will it share it’s warmth and light with an imperfect and petty humanity?  As you sit there on the dune, you have that disquieting moment to contemplate the consequences of a “Nah, they’re just not worth it.”  In that prolonged consternation, suddenly a slight splash of pink. 

You realize that in spite of us, and not because of us, the sun, for the benefit of the rest of the planet at least, decides not to find something else better to do today.  In that pink re-assurance barely a minute later, a ball of light and hope peaks over the horizon.  “There you are”, and you smile slightly to no-one.  In that moment, you share the same level playing field as everyone else on the blue ball, re-assurance in a life beset with vagaries and uncertainties.