I’m washing crusty marinara sauce from a plate that sat too long when she wraps her little arm around my thigh. “Come with me, Mommy,” she beckons.
“Just as soon as I finish these dishes,” I tell her.
“No, Mom – now. You have to come now,” she begs.
She’s been playing on the deck, and I’m sure there’s a caterpillar making an escape or a tower built of rocks on a patio chair. I really just want to clean the kitchen. But when I look into those sparking blue eyes, gazing up from the floor like a fairy, I surrender my desire and pursue hers.
She leads me by the hand through the open screen door, to the far corner of the deck, just as I expected. But what she shows me is not what I expected. Not at all.
The sky is a color I can’t even name – some combination of indigo, magenta, and coral. Clouds like translucent fingers reach to each other along the black horizon in shades of lavender. The sun is gone, but from where it descended, a white glow rises from the tree line as if Christ might come on his white horse, right through that blazing chasm, and call the trumpet to sound. To top it all off, the moon is high in the northern sky, white on navy, a contrast as stark white lilies on black water.
“Let’s go to the yard where we can see it better,” she suggests, eyes still dancing. Read more… »