The Nevada desert is engulfed in sun before the brilliant light spills into the Tahoe Basin, awakening paradise. In the darkness around Lake Tahoe, before the sun ignites the Carson Range, hearts and minds of all kinds begin to stir, awkwardly encumbered within physical bodies, waking from dreams into a dream, to strive and labor, to play, struggle to win the bread, and provide for tomorrows yet to come.Will they? Will the sun shine tomorrow? What lies in store for us today, let alone tomorrow? Love, death, mediocrity, a temporary thrill, a lasting insight? Or will we be small, curse the sun and demand more snow? Will we hurry in our blindness? Will we be happy today, whatever life brings? Will the light of dawn change the way we treat a friend, an employee? Will we make the ones we love suffer because we think life is unfair?Without the sun we are lost. Better to be lost in paradise than know where you are in Hell, I guess. There is no escaping the sun. It will continue to come for us. It creeps through the window to find dusty books, green leaves of plants, forgotten pictures on the wall and some junk in the corner we never use. It does not stop until it swallows us.The snow shovel on the deck all but disappears in the sunlight. It is dry and cracking. A tiny bug crawls idly down the barren handle. The deck radiates warmth beside the river flowing by, dark, and laced with silver reflections of the sky and stubborn snow banks that lie thin and cowering in sun and shadows.Lake Tahoe sizzles, brilliant with goose bumps, as blue as ever. A feint wind line separates dark, deep blue from silver blue. Framed by pine needles bursting with the crystal, glistening flood of morning light, Tahoe is white and blue with a fire all its own. My head turns, as if called by the soft blaze. My eyes drift away upon the surface of the water, my whole life buoyed by the certain ecstasy of being alive, here. Eons pass. It has been this way forever. A few promising clouds Sunday morning and a few days of serious chop and big waves could not overpower the sun upon Lake Tahoe. We could be at the beginning of a long drought and it wouldnt, couldnt, reduce by a speck the great beauty that surrounds us, the light we are so fortunate to wake up to every day. Not even an epic blizzard can make life more awesome than it already is.Be warmed by the light. Stop being cold. You are the light. It comes slowly, gently, kindly. That is its power. Give it back the same way to everyone.Some relish the challenge of being happy in the light. Others shrink from it. Some dont believe its possible. Wise minds are in the moment, fully focused on the magic and the mystery of the dawn. For them there is no darkness at all. The question is, why is it not like that for everyone? How can the beginning of a new day go unnoticed by a living creature? Some of us know the answer to that only too well.Before the ice melts, go take a drive along the top of the glacial moraine, the scary road as I call it, that separates Emerald Bay from Cascade Lake. Find a safe place to park. Walk to a perfect view of Cascade and tell me if those arent ice skate tracks smack dab in the middle of the lake. Whether it was one or two people, I dont know, but it appears that somebody braided near perfect figure eights clear across the width of the lake, a carefree song temporarily written under the sun. It is truly a wonderful sight to behold.Who are you, anonymous dancers? I salute you. Come forward and be recognized. Let your hearts be light. That is the only way to have a successful skate across the dangerous waters of life. Thin ice cannot bring down a light heart.Dont wait for tomorrow. Let paradise awaken within you today.Bob Sweigert is a Sierra Sun columnist, published poet, experienced ski instructor and commercial driver. He’s lived at Lake Tahoe for 25 years.