sunrise - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Before this rising sun I may be only a silhouette, yet as its rays, golden and strong, touch my skin, I will be every colour I was born to radiate.
Above those tangerine mountains, kissed to their heady blush by the sun, were clouds that moved in shoals. And so the sky was equal parts blue and a chorus of greys, streaked with silvers and golds.
Under the sunrise, the apples glowed more rosy than they do in the dayshine. The branches of each tree spread out as if so proud of the bounty they brought and sweetness given within each one. It was a party of colours, of chaos and order, of a beauty that sprung from simple seeds blessed with mud and rain.
The sunrise brings us copper hues with a kiss of sweet baby lips. The sky is all the colours I've been yearning for, as if water could catch fire and become something so new.
After the blackness of night, Earth's star rises on the horizon, spreading her gold in every direction. She comes in the way that natural forces do, needing not invitation yet feeling her welcome. The light is her gift, bold and free, for anyone who cares to open their eyes in the dawn and watch the world awake. This is our sun, a fire ignited to bring warmth to creation and inspire us to seek our own beauty within.
And in a moment I am cast in crimson, bathed in a rosy glow; how the sun gives each dawn without even the asking or the earning of the light. I move my fingers through the air that grows brighter with each passing moment until it becomes a new bold day. Even in winter, as I watch my breath rise skyward, I feel the promise of the gentle spring passing into blood and bone, becoming a deeper part of who I am.
The sunrise means so many things as it drifts in, igniting the colours of my room. This light is the greatest artist in history, creating beauty on the canvas beyond this window pane. It shines a path to my friends, and, as my mind wanders to them, I feel my eyes smile and a rising coziness in my core. Along the way, these new rays will reveal silken webs and grass wands of many hues, the rich browns of oak arms, the silver-cream of our moon above. Even before I move the duvet, I have dreamed each waving leaf, telling its own story to the wind with each dancing flutter.
The sun rose like a flower opening, gifting its petals unto the world. Amid the dancing raindrops was the blush of scarlet, the warmth of tangerine. Gazing toward the illuminated clouds, still beneath the ethereal glow, Calipso felt at home in a way she never had before.
The four of them stared out at the morning sky. Mellow blues and pinks blurred together in a silver mist to create another gorgeous scene. Even when the world was drowning in grief and hardship, the sky remained beautiful. That was the one thing that had kept Clare’s hopes up—if the sky remained vivid and powerful, then so could she.
Alexander sat upon the cool metal bench, his trousers soaking up the damp morning dew, as he overlooked the sea. Darkness had not long surrendered to the light, yet he could see the thick grey clouds that were cast over the sky. The sea was tainted; no longer an abyss of black, nor did it appear blue. Instead it looked a metallic grey, glistening as the occasional spear of light pierced through the clouds and danced over the surface.
Sunlight filled the sky, pure scattered light; its hue ambitiously illuminating each crevice of the land. Sparrows chirped an explicit background melody. With breath paused in my lungs, I wished time would halt. The trees shone as if they were wearing golden crowns and the vast sea was not able to absorb the bright sparks of the sun.The tides on the sea were racing among each other to reach the horizon from where the mighty godlike sun appeared. And though time continued, the emotions that flowed stilled my soul.
The first orange hued rays of sunrise kissed the still dust laden rubble with the same loving care as the undertaker with the recently departed. These soft rays that should have brought warmth to a new day only acted to solidify the reality of their losses. In the dark they had only the smell of the bombs and the fires to contend with, but under the radiating glow of the clouded sky there was no hiding. Aliana wished with all her might that it would sink back down below the horizon so they could have more time to grieve and process their abrupt change in fortune, but you can't argue with the sun.
Mateo stretched up his hand to the sky. "Under the sun we are all the same," he thought, and he let the soft amber glow of the sunrise pour through his fingers and onto his upturned face. The sun itself had barely risen and the city had the subdued quiet of dawn. Only road sweepers and early morning factory workers hurried through the otherwise deserted streets. Everyone of them was too busy to savour the persimmon sky or the rays that radiated from the golden orb as pretty as any fresco.
The yellow shining sun started rising from the ground. It filled the sky with mighty colours of red and splashed the clouds with endless rays of pink. It was bright and mesmerising as it inviting me to stare, deep into the horizon
I can't fight the sun. I can only watch helplessly as it drags me into a day I've been dreading for months.
On my 19th birthday, I saw the sun rise over the ocean for the first time. It wasn't as movies or books told me it was like. No, not at all…
It was on the first days of June, and the cold wasn't as bad as I thought it would be at six a.m. when I arrived to the beach. I took off my shoes and walked straight to the sea, or the sky; at that moment, when the colors melted so perfectly, no one could see the horizon line defined.
It started very subtle, as it was afraid to rise. Bit by bit, it covered the pearl morning haze with a pale, pure white light. The past few months seemed to disappear, and all the bitter moments of those bad times I'd just been through washed away with the soft lullaby the waves sang along as the daisy sun finally showed up in the porcelain sky.
It was only hours later, sitting in the kitchen, watching as the gray light of morning bled through the West London streets...
Brilliant gold and orange hues bled like fire in the east over the rivers and beyond the city. The first slither of the sun peeked over the skyline in a radiant, white form. Gradually it raised, a defined circle in a vibrant backdrop. The rivers were liquid gold and silver, leaving the mighty Steel City dull in comparison. As the sun fully revealed itself it seemed to swell, loosing its focus and spreading in contrast to Ariel’s contracting pupils. An easy breeze picked up and lifted to Ariel’s vantage point, caressing her face and softly blowing loose strands of her hair. Her dream was far away from her now, lost in the awe of everything. It was for this reason that Ariel came to this spot each morning, to lose herself in silent beauty.
Elsa exhaled with relief when she reached the bottom and stepped outside. The air felt fresh and new; a gentle breeze caressed her skin. Elsa seated herself on the rocking chair and watched as ribbons of golden sunlight spilled into the forest. The pine trees were a black silhouette against the brilliant gold sky. The dew drops, adorning the forest, seemed to glow with their own golden radiance.
This morning’s sunrise was a breathtaking display of radiant colors. Bright streaks of red, pink, and orange slowly overcame the dark blue and purple of the twilight sky. The sky resembled a prism; all the colors blended perfectly into each other. The sun itself was just peeking out of the horizon, and its brilliant rays already shined brightly and began to warm the air. I marveled at the glistening reflection of the sun on the ocean and a thrilling feeling of awe swept over me.
This morning wasn’t gray, but by soothing lavender and brilliant amber. The colors merged into neon pink and peach. She wakened early each morning in the stronghold to watch the sunrise. After all, she could only see so many.
She drew a deep breath, the air had yet a hint about it of dawn, the dawn this morning at Acapulco - green and deep purple high above and gold scrolled back to reveal a river of lapis where the horn of Venus burned so fiercely she could imagine her dim shadow cast from it's light on the air field, the vultures floating lazily up there above the brick-red horizon into whose peaceful foreboding the little plane of the Compania Mexicana de Aviacon had ascended, like a minute red demon, winged emissary of Lucifer, the windsock below streaming out its steadfast farewell.
Frames in the pale triangle ahead, the mountain showed gain, the gray at first, then silver, then pink as the earliest sun rays caught the summit.
Golden light dribbled over the land like syrup on oatmeal. The leaves shimmered like a mirror flecked mosaic and the morning dew sparkled on the bejeweled cobwebs and grass.
After a long cold night the daybreak brought glimmers of warmth. The golden light softly caressed the land and ignited the birds into a chorus of melodies.
I stared into the rising sun, its rays burning my eyes. I don't look away. My eyes are glued to the beautiful pink and orange colour the sky was. I had never watched it like this. I never noticed its beauty.
The black sky gradually turned into dim grey and the illumination of stars got languidly lusterless. Millions of stars in the ebony sky started hiding their brightness and got slowly dissipate, as if someone was going to coming. Divergent birds were gently flying in manifest sky and their dulcet dawn chorus was easily audible.
The first orange hued rays appeared on the skyline, which went through the clouds and the prodigious sky was easily visible. The sun came out of its abode across the brilliant orange horizon and glimmered in the sky. The sparkling sun started slowly rising up the scarlet skyline, which clearly differentiated the sky and the land.
Now the warm breeze can be felt and the plants made a beatific smile towards the sun.
Brilliant orange poured out of the sun and across the horizon. The sky was blood red.The furrowed clouds were every shade from palest pink to deep crimson. Dawn broke over the horizon, the brilliant orange egg yolk sun spilled across the clouds as far as the eye could see. Red sky in the morning, shepherd's warning.
With the crepescular twilight hanging at the outside,
Watching the dim slowly replacing to light,
Her eyes visibly sparkled with what she saw,
A dazzling sunlight, wondrous as it glow.
Streaks of pink wander to the end of the earth, as a blazing orange sets fire to the clouds. A light purple reaches to the horizon. A cool breeze brushes against my skin sending chills all around my body. For a day to end so beautiful shares proof that life can do the same. Thoughts swarm through my head as the red fiery orb disappears. The sun is now halfway across the earth. The sun has set.
The sun rose like any other day. Delicate yellows and reds filling the sky, perfectly reflecting off the calm not yet awoken ocean, tinting the pale cliff. But the picturesque site was not what I love most about sunrise, I love how it resembles hope and the promise of adventure.
At the march of dawn besieging the stars, the sun rose victoriously into the atmosphere. The light consumed the sky with ferocity. Thus, returning it to its uplifting powder blue appearance. Wispy cotton clouds gradually accumulated high above, only adding to the blissful ambiance of the morning.
The trees rustle gently in the morning breeze, as the graphite sky begins to wake. Silvery wisps of clouds scatter across its depths, highlighted by the pinks and golds expanding along the horizon.