Brushstrokes of clouds and a hotspot where the sun glided behind the fog
The fog at the horizon is ready to swarm ashore.
It tarries and I steal some time with the cloud-marbled sky.
All that was white turned orange
The sun dips below the west with a fiery sigh.
The fog will soon erase colors and shapes.
But not yet.
Blue and orange still rule:
will only abdicate to the night.
A dark rock surrounded by ocean,
a bright rock surrounded by sky.
Satellite and stripes,
a palette painted for my eyes only.
Clouds painted wish short brushstrokes suspended over silently rolling fog.
Four minutes later.
The quiet beauty of an ordinary evening along the Northern California coast:
the ocean barely rippling,
strands of fog gingerly approaching,
a sliver of moon hanging in the pale sky.
It will soon bathe in the pewter water as darkness sets in.
In the liquid early morning light I say my farewell.
A cloud smiles at me luminously.
A shallow pool mirrors the brightening sky and my thought: ‘Till next time.
Luminous clouds over ominous horizon.
Light and darkness together in the sky,
each one beautiful in it own way.
The stark contrast softens somewhat as the sun sets.
A slice of blue sky balances between opposites.
Scattered clouds dot the pastel evening sky.
The sun’s last rays paint a light glimmer on the rippling sea.
Behind me, I hear rumbling and see rain.
blue highway in the sky
I choose to look at the sea.
The sky reassures me: “There is a way.”
Blue and green reverberate inside me.
I close my eyes and I think blue — sky blue and water blue.
I open my eyes and I remember green.
I will hold this gift of colors close to my heart until I see you again, Little Cayman.
The tale of the vanished horizon
In the morning, the sky melts into the ocean and the ocean vaporizes up to the sky.
The horizon has vanished.
A minimalist gray palette.
A break in the clouds
In the evening, a blade of pale blue brings back the boundary.
Sunlight floods the horizon.
A rich gray palette.