sometimes
Sometimes we go a few weeks without rain here in the winter, and with no moisture the air becomes incredibly clear.
Sometimes there’s just enough moisture to leave a few clouds in the west, though, and so as the sun begins to dip down behind the West Hills, the refracted light turns the sky in the east a deep purple.
Sometimes you’re sitting at your desk on a Friday afternoon and take note that the sunset has painted the snow on Mt Hood that same shade.
Sometimes you pick up the camera bag that you brought with you on a whim, and nonchalantly walk around the floor to the freight elevator, where you punch in the security code you recently learned to have it take you to the roof.
Sometimes you find yourself on the roof of a tall building, icy winds blowing in your hair, squinting through a viewfinder at the distant mountain and thinking, “My God but that’s a great sunset.”
Comments(12)