I could write a pun-filled clever title, but hey, sometimes honesty is the best policy.
I think it’s excellent, in a cynical way, when the weather matches my mood. It’s raining and a bit dreary, the kind of weather that inspires more clever writers than I to write poetry about the pain and suffering of mankind and how it correlates to the weather. Instead, I’m just moaning and groaning on my blog.
I had an aisle seat on the flight to Bradley International from Nashville International last night. There was a man in the window seat, but he fell asleep too quickly to be of any consequence in this little story. We were flying across through sunset, and the clouds were so dark I could not distinguish one from another, but there was a brilliant red color right above them before it faded into dark blue. Just a strip of red, that seemed completely out of place from the rest of the sky. Red at night, sailor’s delight. Red in the morning, sailor’s warning. I hope that the sailors of the world have smooth seas today.
As much as I am feeling miserable and lonely and curmudgeonly, I have to appreciate that strip of red I saw last night. It was so completely out of place but so completely lovely that I have to give the world credit for still having beauty in it.