The sun rises and sets each day. I tend to be more fond of the sunrise than the sunset for every morning brings the chance of a better day, a renewal of sorts, a chance to make the world a better place than the day that has passed as I slept through the night.
It can be difficult to see the sun go down, sinking into the horizon. Sometimes I want to raise my hand and wave, as if saying goodbye to an old friend for the last time. Sometimes watching the sun disappear brings a sense of sadness, but it can also inspire a sense of wonder, as the night follows with visions of moons and planets, shooting stars and galaxies.
I remember the first time I looked though a large telescope at Saturn and saw its rings and then the moons of Jupiter. For some reason Europa always interested me; perhaps it was reading Arthur C. Clarke that influenced that interest. But above all, the night means something special, the chance to dream. In dreams I have breathed water; in dreams I have flown through space; in dreams I can exist anywhere.
Then it is time to wake, just before dawn, and I think that were it not for the sun that rises and sets, I might not have a night filled with such dreams to dream -- nor the chance to make tomorrow a better existence than the day before.