Today was a rainbow day in a long season of the raincoat. On the eastbound leg of my drive home, I found myself wishing that the cockpit of my compact sedan had the full bubble canopy of an F-16 rather than standard roof-and-post engineering.
Cumulonimbus clouds with awesome gray keels scudded majestically across a pale blue sky with their towering tops reflecting the popsicle light of the setting sun. Shadows threw the hills that bracket most of my way into sharp relief under a 180-degree rainbow that was briefly visible from end to end, and the sheen of water on asphalt mirrored the sky so completely that even the road ahead of me glowed robin's egg blue for several miles.
Soon enough the color drained from the sky through a rip in the western horizon, and when the full moon sashayed out from behind a cloud on my right as I was turning north, it looked like a Lemon Cooler rising over purple hills.
Above the moon, scraps of cirrus cloud flared pink before fading away. Below the moon, I tried to absorb this imagery through my windshield, and wished again that I could paint even a third of what I chance to see.
You've heard of Riders of the Purple Sage? I am sometimes a Writer of the Purple Page.
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2 comments:
Exceptional harvest of fruit today, paragraph farmer!
I think that robin's egg is going to hatch a soaring novel one of these days.
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