High above the heart of Guatemala, sunrise from Mt. Acatenango unfolds like a celestial symphony. Plains stretch endlessly, dissolving into a deep indigo haze beneath a sky brushed with twilight pink. Volcanic peaks pierce the morning clouds—smooth, conical silhouettes rising in quiet defiance against the rolling sea of valleys below. As the sun climbs, the palette shifts: blues and pinks melt into molten gold, igniting the horizon with warmth and wonder.
Sunset mirrors the magic in reverse. Sometimes, remnants of afternoon storms catch the last light and blaze like fire across the sky. Other times, the rain lingers, veiling the stars until late into the night. And on rare occasions, a sudden eruption breaks through the clouds—a violet burst, a shower of glowing embers, a plume of smoke curling into the dusk.
Though I only witnessed a few sunrises and sunsets, each one etched the sublime beauty of this volcanic realm into memory. A place where light dances with shadow, and the Earth breathes in color.
Guatemala