He waits at his window. Most days, he takes it all in and feels he is a tiny part of this beauty; the grassy fields of green, the oak tree and its long and proud limbs laying across the soft new sky, the morning song of the native birds. Not this morning. He won't even enjoy this starry night to come that once was his easel to paint what no one else had painted. The sun will become the moon and the moon will become the sun. At that moment of a pure uninterrupted sunrise, he will have a revelation. As the sun sweeps across the landscape once more revealing all there is to see, he will see what is true....