Usually my morning commute is in darkness, which I enjoy, as if I am sneaking out into this cement desert, but there is something to appreciate about the dawn.
Every time I look up, it is difficult to see the line between cloud and mountain. I have so often loved the land, yet there are times when the sky seems limitless. A great realm lies beyond those peaks, and only the gods may travel there.
“And Melkor was bound to the land, limited, and therefore must succumb to the loves and pains it allows. Yet while they met in the twilight and broke at morning, Manwë could leave the land, and therefore was reprieved of its call. What is there not to love, not to fear, of the land? Made with great fervor and with greater fire? He who loved it so was bound to it, and nothing could be more agony.”