The sky is huge tonight. It’s that sort of warm summer sky that fades into the horizon as the wispy purple clouds cross the sunset; the sky that looms above you as you collapse into the wheat and listen to the breeze rustle the golden leaves.
I’m out in the park of course. At this time of year, I can sit out here after an evening meeting, instead of going straight indoors. I wish it was possible all year. Even in a few weeks’ time it’ll be too dark to come out to the sunset park at 9:30pm and expect to see anything.
A single star has appeared over the tree line. The more I think about it, the more I think it might be Venus, shimmering millions of miles away. Meanwhile the sun casts a band of gold beyond the silhouettes, and the huge sky rolls to meet it. Night is coming.
I expect I’ll see bats soon. They silently flap from the trees at dusk, like tiny birds. An animal is squeaking far away. A train rumbles through the valley. The bats will not mind the sound. They’ll begin their day while the tiny birds, the squeaking pet, the passengers on the train, and I, finish ours.
I do love a big sky. I look up at the dappled nimbus clouds that are painted onto the deep blue roof. Michelangelo himself couldn’t reach this ceiling! The sun, long hidden behind the valley of twinkling lights, still just catches each pocket of those clouds, lines them with silver and coats them in the glimmers of gold.
It is Venus, I think. The bringer of love, the bearer of light. Aphrodite, the Greeks called her, born from the sea. The world needs love. As do I. She twinkles behind a purple cloud, and then reappears. As should I. Love, I am reminded, is never a million miles away, even when it feels like it. It’s wherever I am, and it sparkles in me through all the sunsets of my life.
I think it’s time for me to go indoors.
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