but on saturday, i looked up.
and saw an explosion of rose in the sky. a few spots of amber. we took a walk like we do every night and i couldn't get over the sheer beauty of it all.
later that evening, we took a blanket outside. to that far corner of the yard beside the blueberry bush, where we can't see or hear the road. and we talked like teens and looked up at the stars, the sky again a wonderous shade of ebony.
this morning i looked up and said a prayer of thanksgiving. for a clear lane on the highway (a blessing every time).
i've become determined to make this a habit, this upward glancing. to remind me of prayer. and of nature. and of consistency. because the sky is always there, whether i acknowledge it or not. and if paintings like this are always above me, it just seems silly to ignore them.