Sleepless Eyes, Waking Sky

The eastern sky is bright lemon, fading to citrine as illumination melds with blue sky.  Above me the sky remains cloud-free, the blue deepening ever so slightly as my eyes track to the west.  The blue never darkens to navy, night already having left this little corner of world, stars and moon and the deep jewels of evening gone, hopefully to carry sleep to someone who may be so blessed.  The clearness of the sky is humbling, the colors a testament to life, to beauty, and to the beginning of another day.

My tired eyes follow the graduations of dawning colors.  The sun, hidden yet by the mountain, casts the warm, comforting glow of an enormous incandescent lamp before it mellows out to a tropical lime.  The hue is an exact replica of a luscious key-lime pie, making my mouth water and my fingers itch for a fork.  The lime, a temporary product of yellow sun meeting blue sky, eventually fades revealing an expanse of blue so vast I drown in the sky.   It begins with the light shade of shallow water on a calm, sunny sea and gradually builds itself into a happy cornflower blue.  It continues west with the middling blue of a late-century Ford and deepens until it becomes the mysterious depths from a lover’s eyes.  I follow the sea of blue from east to west until my eyes encounter the fading aftermath of the perpetual war between night and day.

As I catch the last glimpse of salmon and pink and faded rose, my mind is filled with wonder.  I am amazed by the determination of the dark, the fight to keep a toehold on this space above me.  The fading colors tint the few clouds from behind, illuminating them with lilac, purple and smoke.

The air has warmed just enough to lift the fog but not burn it away.  The mist hovers above ground, filling in the depressions of the landscape, caught halfway between the grass and the treetops.  The sight is almost surreal as the pale, wispy tendrils highlight the fact that fall has just arrived.  The grass is still sparkling green, an emerald sea below the rolling waves of mist.  The smoky, shadowy white rides high on a lush field of life, settling into the nooks and crannies of the mountainous terrain.

Above the mist, peeking out like a mischievous child exploring from behind a ledge, a riot of color – fall foliage at its peak.  The countless reds and oranges and shades of browns are a cacophony of color, a laughing, beautiful, mocking reminder that life’s end is imminent.

I applaud the riot of color while I silently contemplate the impermanence of life.  I reflect on my fortunes and smile into the sun while I once again vow to cherish each moment until I have no more.



About tuesdaydangergirl

The quintessential pessimistically optimistic meat-eating vegetarian hippie chick who believes wholeheartedly in peace, love, toast and sox but not necessarily in that order. And the tiara. It's all about the tiara ;) View all posts by tuesdaydangergirl

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