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False Sunset

What a beautiful sunset, I said to myself. The sky was awash with the shade of infant skin wiped of blood, bruised a little blue in parts. It was as though a seraphic infant had spread wings. I looked for traces of the sun that had just left…but it was only the sky stretched beyond where the eyes could see. Skies are like that. 

What a beautiful sunset, I said again. I went close to the window, closer, closer and saw a patch of grey. I stood on my toes since it was high. That was the real window. It showed me the grey of the sky. The rest was the tinted light brown. The large portion intact that misled me into believing the sunset was pink like an infant with wings. The reality was that the sky was overcast. There is beauty in that, too. But it is not the beauty of sunset that promises baby dawn burps. It is the beauty of the possible, the maybe, the showers, the dull stupor of smokey eyes and smoking clouds. 

I have lived with this window for years. I knew it was tinted. Then why did I believe in a false sunset today?

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Our perceptions? Our wannabe

Our perceptions? Our wannabe list? Our optimism? Our seeking out what we want to only see? Our rose-tinted glasses? Our love? Our lives? Our longing? Our fears? Our searching for sense? I could go on ~ f  but it is time for a glass of vino on this side of the world and I look West to where a memorable sunset is promised and I know that it will not disappoint. I just know. mx

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Knowing is having it, M. Like

Knowing is having it, M. Like I did for that brief while, until I saw something else. I should have figured out that sinsets anyway do not last and always reappear, as long as there is a sun. 

Hope you saw the rays in the glass of wine. 

~F

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my conflict

Farzana,

I used to see such mesmerizing pink and gray sunsets in San Dimas, California when my children were small.  I often stopped my car and didn't restart my engine until they noticed how wonderful the sky was.  

And I have a similar question as you.  I was thinking not long ago why I no longer see that anymore.  Your blog reminded me that someone told me that sky becomes unusually beautiful like that because of smog!  That killed it for me, I guess.  My unwanted truth was that the mountain range there is beautiful but stops bad air from Los Angeles, so smog is stuck by the mountain range.   Can you imagine?  I hate to admit it because I love San Dimas.  

I didn't realize that the unwanted truth affected me more than I thought because I haven't seen such beautiful skies anymore.  That's probably because I don't pay attention to the sky as much as I used to.  It's sad.  And similar thing goes to something else even more potentially disastrous in Japan.  A few days ago, I read in Japanese newspapers that strontium was found in Yokohama!  So sickening.  I'm in Japan currently.

 

 

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Keiko: The tragedy in Japan

Keiko:

The tragedy in Japan has to be seen and cannot be ignored. I know that being there will give you a better perspective. But is it like not seeing the skies as you used to? I would not be put off by smog and other scientific theories. "Unwanted truth" as you put it is important if it alters things in life...beauty and creativity can do without such appendages. How true can Nature be when its very nature is to change? 

Of course, my little peep was also metaphorical, as it often is. Mary's queries are about them...she went for the wine and I got trapped in the vine!

~F

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wine and vine

Farzana,

Yes, I understand about Mary's wine (she is all wine, foods and music!)  and your follow-up on vine.  It is lively.

Meanwhile, I thought maybe the sky over San Dimas has improved a bit over the years.  Who knows?  And I also realized that I haven't been there the whole time.  Now you mentioned it, I thought about it.   I don't think I stopped looking at it just because  someone mentioned about smog. That's not me, come to think of it.  For a while, I thought I became more sensitive than I really am, I guess.  Now, I'm back to normal.  Thank you. 

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Normalcy

Keiko:

At different times we react differently, partly because things change and partly because we do, or our way of seeing does. Or, without realising it, we soak in what we read/hear/see. Like my tinted window. 

"Now, I'm back to normal."

:) Being sensitive is normal. More than you really are again would depend on so many factors. You essentially must be, for only then can you be more or less. 

~F

PS: I was just playing wiht words with wine and vine. If only I could opt for the former...wine does not suit my system and I get high on Breezers!