As the temperatures play it loose well above seasonal averages with just an occasional winter night punctuating the weeks, I’ve noticed that the skies of late are all about playing it big in technicolor ta-da moments. “Look at that sunset!” has been the rallying cry of at least one family member regularly all week.
Emily Dickinson, in one of her poems, talks about “the certain slant of sky,” but in her poem, it’s an oppressive slant. The slant we’re seeing our sun through is clearly the opposite, liberating colors that usually don’t pile on each other quite so vividly. In winter especially, I’m often delighted with the sky: the blue seems bluer, the reds and pinks brighter, the setting sun richer. I realize a lot of this is because the angle of the sun is different, closer to us but angled far more, which makes for a bit more drama as well as colder temperatures.
In addition to the science, there is the poetry of the sky, less a long story of sun, heat, cicadas and storm, and more a quick dance of words. Don’t miss it.