|
the sky is not just the sky September 19, 2002, 7:29 a.m. Hitting the snooze button still feels like such a luxurious novelty to me that, when I pulled myself out of bed at 7:18, I had the sinfully delicious feeling that I'd allowed myself to oversleep. I stumble a little, and yawn without covering my mouth, but I find my way to the bathroom and Paul Simon finds his way to my speakers. The cold water and the Brasilian drums combine to jolt me a little more into consciousness. I've been waking up at sunrise I don't remember the last time I saw a sunrise, though the sky was streaked with pink outside my window when I rolled over to strike clumsily at my alarm. Perhaps my odds will get better as winter approaches and sunrise comes later and later. I do stare at the sky at sunset, if I happen to be outside walking from home to campus or back again. I stop paying full attention to where I'm putting my feet or what people are saying to me, and I walk with my face turned upward. "Isn't it beautiful?" I sigh sometimes, and sometimes my companions will agree. Other times they laugh at me - after all, it's only the polluted Philadelphia sky, hovering above Swarthmore's latest construction project. I feel a little alone when that happens, but I don't care so much. I'm too busy wishing I could paint as well as Nature does.
|