The hill looks out over the sleeping college town as it rolls into the day. The sun peeks over the hill and I am filled with a knowledge that in that moment I am standing at a perceptual “edge” of the Earth. I am standing at the brink as the Earth (or at least my corner of it) prepares to renew itself. We often think of an “edge” as a place where solid material meets open space, but I don’t need to stand atop an intense vertical drop to sense this shift. Instead time has given me this sense of standing in that precarious place, where anything is possible, because of course, that is exactly what dawn is.