One of the benefits of my job is that I work on the 9th floor, overlooking Cook Inlet and the mountains beyond.  This morning, I came to work to see them in pre-dawn shadows.  Just enough light from the moon to reflect off the snow of the mountains, but not enough for much definition.

Then, I watched the alpine-glow descend upon the mountain, early morning pink becoming warmer as the sun rose behind me.

After that round, the sun rose, but direct sunlight was blocked by a cloud, and my mountain disappeared in a shroud of early morning blue.

The next phase was the stark white of daylight, crisp and clean, with the magic optics of temperature inversion bringing the mountains impossibly close.

Then, as the day progressed, the mountains were obscured by haze, to the point of nearly disheartening.

There is really no point to this observation, no higher meaning, just a gratitude that I live in a place where such an ordinary morning is also so spectacular.