pink tipped spires glow
short time, daybreak Atlanta
old poetic theme
Each day, I exit I85 to the Buford-Spring Connector in midtown Atlanta.
The expressway ramp takes me up as high as a three story building before a quick decent to Peachtree Creek level.
From this rise, for a brief moment, I have a post card view of downtown Atlanta.
On some mornings, this moment takes place at sunrise or just before sunrise, when the earliest light catches the tops of the downtown buildings and the cityscape glows pinkishly.
The pink light of dawn at the beach, on a city, over the desert or on the far mountain range is a reoccurring theme in literature and poetry.
Dawn takes place every day.
No travel need to experience it.
It can happen on the drive to work.
‘Composed Upon Westminster Bridge,
William Wordsworth September 3, 1802
Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning: silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
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