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| Pouring through (December, 2010) |
The night of the eclipse, the clouds closed ranks against me and blanketed the sky. If I had never seen a blue sky, or the stars at night, I might have thought that our world exists in isolation, nothing above us at all but a ceiling of greyish white. No eclipse for my eyes to witness. To me, it did not exist, except in dreams.
For days, the sky stayed that way. The whole time I was alone in my home, my family miles away. A oppressive, drop-ceiling of clouds. The entire journey to Toronto to catch a bus that was never meant for me - the world dull, the sun diffused. After two hours of standing in the freezing cold, after two hours of not knowing what would happen next, the bus pulled from the station. As I looked at the sky, the clouds began to move.
The world was still blanketed, but a crack appeared, moving fast. It revealed a moment of bright, bright blue. Blue sky.
The world looked grey. The sun, nowhere to be seen. And behind all of that, blue sky. Sunshine. Whether I could see it or not. The blue sky doesn´t disappear when the clouds hide it from my view.
Did I know that already? It seems like I need to learn again, and again, and again.
