Over the Horizon
On Tuesday I went over to meet Paula and Steve, to talk about one of my scripts and several projects we'll be working on in the coming year. I arrived in a very good mood and space.
I was riding west on Interstate 90 just after sunset. There was a miniscule hint of light in the sky, brightening to a very dim color reminiscent of well worn blue denims the horizon. The contours of the entire horizon, from trees and such a mile or two away to the distant Olympic mountain range was rimmed with a brownish orange, backlit by a sunset well beyond the horizon. The picture of the night sky above, the faint blue sky on the horizon, and the landscape outlined with the orange-ish glow was captivating.
My attention was split between the traffic and nature's breath stopping display. I nearly missed my exit. It was a fleeting bit of ethereal art, deep and profound. The sort of experience which makes emotions swell in your chest because you're appreciative of being there, seasoned with an ache because there was no one there to share it with.
I was riding west on Interstate 90 just after sunset. There was a miniscule hint of light in the sky, brightening to a very dim color reminiscent of well worn blue denims the horizon. The contours of the entire horizon, from trees and such a mile or two away to the distant Olympic mountain range was rimmed with a brownish orange, backlit by a sunset well beyond the horizon. The picture of the night sky above, the faint blue sky on the horizon, and the landscape outlined with the orange-ish glow was captivating.
My attention was split between the traffic and nature's breath stopping display. I nearly missed my exit. It was a fleeting bit of ethereal art, deep and profound. The sort of experience which makes emotions swell in your chest because you're appreciative of being there, seasoned with an ache because there was no one there to share it with.
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