Inching forward in one prolonged, yet smooth motion, the day sets into night. The last flickers of sunrays have set beyond the horizon, the shadows have been cast, and darkness slowly envelopes all that the eye can see. It happens so slowly and subtly, yet faithfully, this gentle fading into night. But night itself is not dead, though darkness consumes the light. No, the stars begin to put forth their glory one by one by one, and it is not too long before the moon will arise to overshadow the light of the brilliant glimpse of the galaxy. The night is neither still nor silent. Wind whistling through the leaves, water rushing down upon the rocks of the river bed, even the night-bugs sing their songs. And the stars pave their way across the sky, and the moon moves slowly on, casting its rays to prove that darkness will always be once and for all conquered by light, and that reason for hope lives on. And yet the world waits in silent slumber as the night passes into day. Light approaches and the stars fade away, and the eye sees dimly what soon will be beholden by full light. Shades of pink and gray and blue and yellow begin to color the once black sky and then, before the day creatures open their eyes again in wakefulness, the glorious rays of sunlight hit the land, and it is as if the sun had never set, and full daylight ensues, a moving, passing daylight from one end to the other, journeying across the sky, each day from a slightly differing and ever-changing fixture. Time is alive, in constant motion, faithful rhythms that flow and beat predictably, such that so many in the world do not stop to appreciate its glory and to hear its voice, the song of the heavens.

And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. And God saw that the light was good. And God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.” Genesis 1:3-5