The moon, a smudge of sleepiness, looks down as the clouds fade suddenly to silver, and Dawn permeates the moving masses. The sheen of brushed steel reflects the entering rosiness. The cryptic glyphs now come to life in sharp reliefs of purple, gold and magenta. Branches buffeted by light breezes screen the growing goldness, the glowing boldness, with which Our Dawn claims the heavens. The streetlights surrender.
Construction resumes on the building across the way.
Traffic zooms and jostles on the roaring roadway. The sparrows chatter approvingly. A crow croaks contentedly. The moon is sharp in admiring attendance. A fresh wind comes along with the sun's cameo appearance.