There will be no more sunrises, no days, no hours or minutes.Near the horizon it is always less bright, while in the region immediately around the sun it is more or less yellow. All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten,will pass to someone else.The reason of this is that near the horizon we look through a very great thickness of the lower atmosphere, which is full of the larger dust particles reflecting white light, and this diluter the pure blue of the higher atmosphere seen beyond, And in the vicinity of the sun a good deal of the blue light is reflected back into space by the finer dust, thus giving a yellowish tinge to that which reaches us reflected chiefly from the coarse dust of the lower atmosphere. Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance.At sunset and sunrise, however, this last effect is greatly intensified, owing to the great thickness of the strata of air through which the light reaches us. It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed.The enormous amount of this dust is well shown by the fact that then only we can look full at the sun, even when the whole sky is free from clouds and there is no apparent mist. Your grudges, resentments, frustrations, and jealousies will finally disappear.But the sun’s rays then reach us after having passed, first, through an enormous thickness of the higher strata of the air, the minute dust of which reflects most of the higher strata of the air, the minute dust of which reflects most of the blue rays away from us, leaving the complementary yellow light to pass on, Then, the somewhat coarser dust reflects the green rays, leaving a more orange-coloured light to pass on; and finally some of the yellow is reflected, leaving almost pure red. So, too, your hopes, ambitions, plans, and to-do lists will all expire.But owing to the constant presence of air currents, arranging both the dust and vapour in strata of varying extent and density ,and of high or low clouds which both absorb and reflect the light in varying degrees, we see produced all those wondrous combinations of tints and those gorgeous ever-changing colours which are a constant source of admiration and delight to all who have the advantage of an uninterrupted view to the west and who are accustomed to watch for those not infrequent exhibitions of nature’s kaleidoscopic colour painting. The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away.With every change in the altitude of the sun the display changes its character; and most of all when it has sunk below the horizon, and owing to the more favourable angles a larger quantity of the coloured light is reflected toward us, Especially when there is a certain amount of cloud is this the case. It won't matter where you came from, or on what side of the tracks you lived.These, so long as the sun was above the horizon, intercepted much of the light and colour, but when the great luminary has passed away from our direct vision, his light shines more directly on the under sides of all the clouds and air strata of different densities; a new and more brilliant light flushes the western sky, and a display of gorgeous ever-changing tints occurs which are at once the delight of the beholder and the despair of the artist. It won't matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant.And all this unsurpassable glory we owe to--dust . Your gender, skin color, ethnicity will be irrelevant. ...

Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.was the most celebrated troublemaker in his town. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.Teachers literally cringed when they saw his name posted on their classroom lists for the next semester. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake.He wasn't very talkative, didn't answer questions and got into lots of fights. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats.He had flunked almost every class by the time he entered his senior year, yet was being passed on each year to a higher grade level. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.Teachers didn't want to have him again the following year. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.T. One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by.J. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it.was moving on, but definitely not moving up. In his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.I met T. Days and weeks passed.J. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep.for the first time at a weekend leadership retreat. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.All the students at school had been invited to sign up for ACE training, a program designed to have students become more involved in their communities. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window.T. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.J. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.was one of 405 students who signed up. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.When I showed up to lead their first retreat, the community leaders gave me this overview of the attending students: ""We have a total spectrum represented today, from the student body president to T. It faced a blank wall.J. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.Ware, the boy with the longest arrest record in the history of town."" Somehow, I knew that I wasn't the first to hear about T. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.J.'s darker side as the first words of introduction. At the start of the retreat, T. She said, ""Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.J. "" Epilogue: There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations.was literally standing outside the circle of students, against the back wall, with that ""go ahead, impress me"" look on his face. ...

she was unable to walk and her movement was restricted in other ways as well.My dog, Tippy, ran past me. the doctors did not hold out much hope of her ever recovering from this illness.What’s your big hurry. They predicted she'd spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair. I wondered, annoyed. They said that few, if any, were able to come back to normal after contracting this disease.It wasn’t like he was late for the school bus like I was. the little girl was undaunted.When he got to the front door, he lay down in front of it -- his way of asking to be petted. There, lying in her hospital bed, she would vow to anyone who'd listen that she was definitely going to be walking again someday.I ignored his shameless begging for affection, hurdled over him and sprinted for the waiting yellow bus. ¡¡¡¡She was transferred to a specialized rehabilitation hospital in the San Francisco Bay area. That afternoon, I jumped out of the bus and dashed up the driveway. Whatever therapies could be applied to her case were used.That’s odd, I thought. The therapists were charmed by her undefeatable spirit.Tippy was usually outside, barking an entire paragraph of “hellos” as soon as he saw me come home. They taught her about imaging - about seeing herself walking.When I burst through the door, the house was quiet and still. If it would do nothing else, it would at least give her hope and something positive to do in the long waking hours in her bed.I dumped my coat and backpack on the floor. Angela would work as hard as possible in physical therapy, in whirlpools and in exercise sessions.Mom silently appeared. But she worked just as hard lying there faithfully doing her imaging, visualizing herself moving, moving, moving! ¡¡¡¡One day, as she was staining with all her might to imagine her legs moving again, it seemed as though a miracle happened: The bed moved! It began to move around the room! She screamed out, ""Look what I'm doing! Look! Look! I can do it! I moved, I moved!"" ¡¡¡¡Of course, at this very moment everyone else in the hospital was screaming, too, and running for cover.She asked me to sit down at the kitchen table. People were screaming, equipment was falling and glass was breaking. “Honey, I have some sad news that I need to tell you. You see, it was the recent San Francisco earthquake.This morning, while you were at school, Tippy was hit by a car and killed. But don't tell that to Angela.He died instantly, so he didn’t suffer. ...

Were some thoughts pushed below the surface, allowed to be changed with time, perhaps to be forgotten forever.She has lost 15 pounds and looks like a cover girl. How many “I love you’s” went unsaid that would have healed an aching heart. ""I'm young again!"" she shouts exuberantly. As with sleep, you cannot store them and build a reserve to tap into at a later date. As my friend raves on about her new love, I've taken a good look at my old one. Their power, their balming effect, quickly dissipates with disuse.My husband of almost 20 years, Scott, has gained 15 pounds. They work only in the moment that they were intended.Once a marathon runner, he now runs only down hospital halls. Left idle, their potential is gone, the object of their delivery untouched by kindness, by tenderness.His hairline is receding and his body shows the signs of long working hours and too many candy bars. “I love you.Yet he can still give me a certain look across a restaurant table and I want to ask for the check and head home. ” It is so simple to say. When my friend asked me ""What will make this love last. Three words."" I ran through all the obvious reasons: commitment, shared interests, unselfishness, physical attraction, communication. There are many other opportunities to say them, but none more important and possessing more potential than now.Yet there's more. Words can have the opposite effect if left unsaid, almost as if they were spoken as opposites.We still have fun. Silence can equal the opposite.Spontaneous good times. “I love you” unsaid can become “I don’t love you” out loud.Yesterday, after slipping the rubber band off the rolled up newspaper, Scott flipped it playfully at me: this led to an all-out war. Your most tender and endearing thoughts, if not allowed to fly free from the prison of your mind, may silently tell someone that you don’t care.Last Saturday at the grocery, we split the list and raced each other to see who could make it to the checkout first. How many times has your silence told your partner or child that you didn’t love them.Even washing dishes can be a blast. How often has an unsaid word created the opposite effect.We enjoy simply being together. Think of all the lives that would have been changed had armies of sentences been allowed to roam free. And there are surprises. Those who go through life cloaked in spoken endearments, wrapped and comforted in the voiced love of others, are truly blessed.One time I came home to find a note on the front door that led me to another note, then another, until I reached the walk-in closet. ...

The city of Florence eats, sleeps and breathes art."Love.. Examples of man's artistic genius stand on nearly every street.what is love. Dozens of museums and art shops wait to be explored. A lot of people shared their views to what Love really is, or at least what Love is in their eyes. Florence, Italy, is an art lover's paradise.Perhaps love is just an illusion. During the Renaissance (or ""Rebirth"" of art), Florence was a paradise for artists themselves.A strong illusion, especially for those who are searching for a purpose of life. In fact, the Renaissance began here more than 500 years ago.Is love an answer. Before this time, art focused completely on religious subjects. Love can be wonderful, special, complicated, a distress, a gift, a curse, a tragedy, and most of all, an experience. Renaissance art began to include more variety. ¡¡¡¡Love is a mysterious and a complicated force. Artists painted pictures of ordinary people.What do a person mean when they say they love someone. They painted scenes from history and characters from Greek and Roman myths. Love is many different things. Michelangelo was the greatest of Florence's artists.Each of us have our own understanding of Love is, and most of the time we base our definitions from feelings and experiences. Visitors line up for hours at the Accademia museum for a look at his impressive David.The book defines love in many ways. This 14-foot-high statue has become the ideal human figure of the Renaissance.""It is a strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties."" It can be an affection and tenderness felt by lovers. David is an example of Michelangelo's talent for sculpting people simply, yet powerfully.Love is the object of attachment, devotion, or admiration. More of Michelangelo's work can be seen in the great Palazzo Vecchio. ¡¡¡¡Just when we thought we finally grasp what love is, somebody asks: ¡¡¡¡""Does anyone really know what ""LOVE"" mean. This building housed the Florentine government from 1299-1322. I believe I have a true love, but ""True love"" is always hurt, isn""t it. Paintings and carvings of famous Italian artists fill the palace rooms."" ¡¡¡¡I scratches my head with this thought and began to wonder. Michelangelo helped decorate the outside, too.What is the answer to this. He chiseled a head into the palace wall. ""This I have to know!"" I said to myself. A story says that to win a bet, Michelangelo carved the head with his hands behind his back, facing away from the wall.I looked in the mirror and asked ""Is it a true love when you know you want to live with this special person for the rest of your life. ¡¡Not far from the Palazzo Vecchio lies Florence's Cathedral Square. Have we reached ""true love"" when we are ready to give everything away towards our subject. ...