My house faces north. I have a window on the east wall of the kitchen and a window on the west wall of the kitchen. My view from either window is blocked by the respective neighbor’s houses. Around dinnertime, I walked into the kitchen and felt excited and then confused. The room was illuminated as it is in the morning: the a light and brightness coming in from the east side of the room. I thought, “Hooray, it’s still early! I still have several more hours of the day!” Then logic kicked in and I realized it was dusk. I figured the sunlight was bouncing off some clouds off to the east and popped outside to check it out. I got to the driveway and immediately felt humbled by the giant white puffs overhead. They were the kind that make you feel tiny and intimidated but at the same time so close to them you might be able to touch them. Everything around me was bright white; the sidewalk, the street, the neighbor’s houses; an air of newness about them. I casually turned to look toward the sun and caught my breath. It was low in the sky and an unnatural red. The effect was amplified by the cool blue sky and serene clouds one normally sees over an ocean. The sun seemed so angry, and it felt to me to be without reason. This setting made absolutely no sense at all to me logically but my heart was absolutely amazed. I felt like I was caught in the middle of an epic conversation I was never meant to hear, a delectable treat. I wish I took a photo of it, but I was positively rooted to the concrete. As the sun sunk in the sky, it glowed a hot pink and lined all the clouds that hid it in white.
I love my driveway.