23 May 2007

I have seen skies that were like the grandest paintings, surreal in their vivid blue, with clouds that seemed to have been shaped by angel wings. Then there were others that were more mundane, some that seemed almost fake, as if the real one were out for cleaning somewhere, and some placeholder poster were filling the space of the masterpiece. It’s just air, though, isn’t it? With the specific chemical mix that scatters the light so that it is the blue that we know? But of all that is of the world, there is nothing more otherworldly than the sky, nothing else that evokes all the kinds of dreams that matter. Even after taking it for granted for years and years, there comes that moment when one looks up and is amazed: why it is that they are called the heavens.

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:01 am

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