On my way to the bus, I turned around to look at the sky. Immediately, I smiled. The sky was blue, a lighter shade than that of the day, but what really struck me were the gray dryer-lint clouds up above the mountains, turning pink at the bottom. I walked backwards for a moment or two, grinning at the sky, knowing I would lose sight of it soon. Finally, I faced forward again as the Curtis's house obscured my view on the right.
Once on the bus, I craned my head to look out the window, and was immediately rewarded. The clouds had gotten brighter. Now they were completely pink, hot pink -- well, no, not really. I struggled to find the right words. They were the color of watermelon, only paler, but the color wasn't pale --
Ah. That's it, I thought. The clouds were the exact color of Mom's blush.
In a matter of moments, however, the clouds turned lavender, grey, then dissipated, as if they had never been there at all.
I wondered at the abruptness of nature, and counted myself lucky to have seen it at all.
No comments:
Post a Comment