I have seen some amazing dawns in my time, from mountaintops, shores and from the air flying through the night into daylight. This morning, however, I experienced a dawn like no other. I took a very early flight from New York, and I was slumped up against the window gazing out at the runway as the airplane taxied out for takeoff. The whole world was awash with a dusky French navy and the faintest glimmer of pink along the horizon suggesting the approaching dawn. It was a lovely sight, with the runway lights of LaGuardia twinkling in the foreground. The engines revved and we started hurtling down the runway. Just as the wheels left the ground, a streak of the most brilliant metallic rose shot across the horizon and as we climbed higher and higher that streak exploded as if the sky was splitting wide open and the whole sky lit up with a dazzling, electric flush of colour. The suddenness was breathtaking, and over so quickly I never had a chance to reach for my camera. By the time I managed to tear my gaze away long enough to take a shot, most of the rose had dissipated and yellows and oranges were starting to dominate. Still lovely, but nothing compared to that first blush burst of dawn.
Where's my backpack? 