The sunrises and sunsets spoke to me. Juxtaposed against the immenseness of the ocean at my feet, they spoke of life as a journey — a journey through calms and storms, sun and clouds, crests and valleys, from which we gain new perspectives and learn and grow. They spoke to me of joy beyond grief. "When you get above the clouds, the sun is always shining, the sky is always blue," I wrote on a message board one spring day.

As I walked on, I began to understand that you can choose to focus on the clouds of the past or you can choose to focus on the light present beyond the clouds and go on from there — that it is how you respond, not what has happened, that counts in the development of who you are in this life and the quality of your personal walk.

In my walks on the beach — after I learned to lift my head and look up — I often stood still and marveled at the amazing beauty of the play of light on land and sea. I saw the sun shining through and around the clouds, edging them in gold, their beams traveling to earth and sea, beauty everywhere. And through learning to translate this into my life — focusing on the "light" (whatever I could think of to be grateful for), I began to see great beauty in the midst of loss. Endless Sunset came to me at this time.

I’d lost people precious to me, but through choosing to focus on the light, I discovered that the same qualities these people offered during their lifetimes were now being expressed to me through others. Their source of goodness and love, after all, never dies. God does not leave us comfortless, the Bible promises in Isaiah. Slowly, I began to realize that the wonderful things these people had meant to me, the loving experiences we shared, were still real and alive in my heart.

The sea gull in Endless Sunset was the last thing I added to this painting. "Jonathon" appears in many of my paintings. Here, he is soaring through the painting on his journey — beyond and above the viewer’s point of reference (the foreground dunes symbolizing the present), flying through gilt-edged clouds and onward into the light. We don’t know where his journey will take him. Soon he will be out of sight, but that doesn’t mean he no longer exists. It just means we can’t see him any more. And whatever beauty he has brought us in his passing our way is still alive in our hearts. So it is with the people who have touched our lives and gone on ahead of us. — Ellen Rice