I sit in anticipation. I’ve seen a glimpse. I know it’s time.
Mother Nature prepares to tuck in the day. She dials down her dimmer switch and activates her kaleidoscope.
Colors ignite the sky.
Like crayons in a 64 Crayola box, strands of goldenrod, wisteria, periwinkle, and bittersweet vie for attention. I’m immersed in color. My soul savors the hues. Sound recedes.
Minutes tick by. Then seconds. The kaleidoscope turns. New patterns blaze. Tapestries of fuchsia, butterscotch, lilac, marigold, and marmalade fill the horizon.
The tapestries cover me. I feel their weight. And yet, they elevate.
Too soon, the flames retreat. Embers glow. Then fade.
Going…
going…
going…
The dimmer switch clicks.
Gone.
I’m wrapped in the promise that Mother Nature will weave more tapestries and tuck in tomorrow.