Yesterday when I woke I opened the curtains in my room to see what the morning was like. I am housesitting this week, so the view out this window is not part of my daily routine. It was dark, but I left the curtains open so that as I read the Word and journaled, I could watch the coming of the day.
The sky began to lighten, revealing the dark hulk of Mount Si. The more the sky glowed, the blacker the mountain looked. From milky pale at the horizon, where it gave sharp definition to each crag of the big rock, the sky faded into brilliant glowing blue and then to midnight navy.
No sooner had the sky flattened to winter white then the sun reached up and brushed the undersides of all the stippled clouds with pink, now highlighting the snowy peaks of the farther, higher mountains.
Today the coming of the sun could not reveal the mountain, lost as it was in a sea of fog. In the fog I went for a run; still, at midday, I look out the window at a grey that erases all I know is there. Only the spiny branches of the naked winter trees close at hand are sharp, the fog a backdrop for their lacy limbs.
It's good to see you writing again, Ralph. :) I like hearing your thoughts.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Linz! It's good to be writing again, too.
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