So you can basically call anything you want, anything you want. Let me provide an example:
“Morning moved like a pearl-gray tide across the fields and up the hill-flanks, flowing rapidly down into the soluble dark.” (Look Homeward, Angel, 144).
How great is that? Soluble means able to be dissolved, and yes dark is able to be dissolved. But you know this dude had this word shoot into his head and was like, “That dark is soluble. The morning is pearl-gray.” And it was so.
We’ve reached the height of postmodernism, when you can incorporate whatever you want to achieve absurdity or high seriousness. So if you want to describe your dog, the first thing that comes to mind is as good as any.
You can call the dawn whatever you want. Let’s try. The orchid blue morning broke suddenly like a storm-washed crescent over the slop-bricked town. Pretty shitty, right? But at least you get a vague idea of what I’m talking about, the reality I’m trying to define. Outdo me, please. That is the beauty of this post postmodernism thing.