A sunrise in the first breaths of the day, the air is cold and fresh and new and the sky sings in pale pinks and yellows. 

A warm afternoon where the sky is velvet cerulean weaved with gossamer clouds. The air is filled with life, the songs of the wild and free. The sun smiles from the blue and bathes its world in golden light.

Grey and silver clouds roll over mountain and hill until the sky is no longer its blue. They sing with deep voices and dance with razor shards of light.
The world beneath them holds its breath as they rain down the beautiful power of the heavens.

Just after midnight and the stars are the only eyes awake. Within the inky abyss the constellations shine a cold, faraway light, strings of diamond and moonstone threaded over the sky.