I was thinking ahead to the voyage that begins in less than twenty-four hours, and a scene of a landfall came to mind, a pleasing scene when, after a long night at sea, you see in the early light the coast and, as the sun rises, you draw near your destination, with wind filling your sails and pride swelling your chest, and I thought: This is the metaphor for all of life's achievements, not an evening landfall, but an early one, because like all achievements, the landfall at sunrise comes after long, lonely hours, often filled with struggles, despair, self-doubt, and when you finally reach your goal, rather than being the culmination of a beautiful day at sea with warmth and hope, the landfall washes away all the imperfections of the night before and you can savor the accomplishment.
An evening landfall, when you beat the sunset into port, brings a quiet end to your travel, the way desert after supper prepares you for sleep at the finish of an unremarkable day.
A morning landfall stimulates you, despite your fatigue, and spawns shouts of exultation. Yes! We've made it!