Early Morning In January

A warm, still morning, with a clear sky and stars.  At first the hills were almost black, but, as the dawn ascended, they became dark green, of a peculiarly delicate tint which is never seen in the daytime.  The quietude is profound, although a voice from an unseen fishing-boat can now and then be heard.  How strange the landscape seems!  It is not a variation of the old landscape; it is a new world.  The half-moon rides high in the sky, and near her is Jupiter.  A little way further to the left is Venus, and still further down is Mercury, rare apparition, just perceptible where the deep blue of the night is yielding to the green which foretells the sun.  The east grows lighter; the birds begin to stir in the bushes, and the cry of a gull rises from the base of the cliff.  The sea becomes responsive, and in a moment is overspread with continually changing colour, partly that of the heavens above it and partly self-contributed.  With what slow, majestic pomp is the day preceded, as though there had been no day before it and no other would follow it!