7th Sunrise, Saturday the 13th of January

Today was clear, and very cold. So cold that I could not smell anything at all. The wind has died down – now it is only an occasional gust, just to remind us of the knives in its keeping.

The crows were very busy this morning. The sudden freeze has left them many meals, and they were shouting their celebrations to the world, thanking Winter for the bounty. I’m pretty sure I also heard gueese, but I did not see them. I also heard the peeping – it’s no longer coming from above the door to our complex, though. It seemed to be coming from much futher away. I didn’t get to see any birds mysteriously vanishing above the field across from me today, but I think I got to see the bat again. The dart-shaped bird was not in evidence, nor were any sparrows. I’m worried about them.

The traffic was light. The sky was cloudy enough to do a sunrise justice, but not cloudy enough to hide the sliver of the old moon – no longer wide enough to be a Cheshire moon, She will be New again, soon. I heard two planes flying – I don’t think it was the air force today. They sounded like twin engine planes, probably from the local airport. It’s a good day to fly.

The sunrise started with a stunning contrast of dusky blue grey clouds with brick red highlights. The clouds themselves were art – closer to the horizon, they were arcus clouds, crashing waves rolling up into the sky. They morphed into creamy golden feathers, airy wisps of cirrus. Finally, the dome of the sky was smothered in altocumulus, scattered and pocked with grey and ruby and gold.

In the very center of it all, a cumulonimbus cloud rose in firey glory, collecting the shades of lavender, wine, and buttery gold in one place, so that all that mauve and magenta had to share the rest of the horizon, drowning in airy whites and yellows. That tower of brick red, blood red, stood tall above the ambulance bay across the street, and as it grew in presence and deepened colors, the world seemed to move to the background, the silence of the portent swallowing every sound and movement.

It was hypnotizing.

Finally, the sun rose, and put all these dark moments away. The cold air allowed that fiery golden orb to swallow all the red, all the grey, even much of the blue… until all that was left was unapproachable light, the palest blue sky, and all those portentious clouds stripped of their grandure until they were only a pale, white presence, all gravitas gone.

And so, once again, the light rises, and we sigh in relief, safe from the monsters of the night. Isn’t it the most perfect illlusion?
-Raven

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