Present

 We walked this evening at sunset, after a cloudy cold day. We were bundled up against the early December cold---the kind of temperature that feels bracing now. After January we will likely describe these temps as warm, but we aren’t yet accustomed to the cooler winds. 

The sky was mostly overcast when we started, so there was less color than the usual breath-taking Kansas sunset. I’d brought my phone along, but recognized I would not be taking photos this time. There was a spot near the horizon where the clouds had a split. The sun was in that spot as we started, so it gleamed a strong yellow right there, but the rest of the sky was unremarkable. We walked and watched as it lowered and became less bright.

Our attention was drawn to the honking and gathering of geese flying in a group over the fields nearby. They moved more like blackbirds, all together, instead of the lines we are used to seeing move with purpose across the sky. As a group, they would rise and lower and then land in a field, only to rise again as one and move, first one direction, and then another before settling again into silence. They took our attention away from the clouds momentarily. When we looked back, the clouds were lit from underneath.

It wasn’t over. The brightness at the horizon was dimmed, but the rays of light slipping under the cloud cover to paint the clouds was just beginning. The texture was lit with golden light that changed every moment in brightness as well as color. We watched as it morphed from shades of yellows to oranges and then reds and pinks, and the color spread higher and wider until even the east side was pink and there were pink streaks in the north. We’d already turned toward home by then so we had to walk a bit sideways to keep our eyes on it. It changed constantly, becoming more intense, brighter, more vivid.

And then, suddenly, it was less. Darkness began to take back the sky and little by little the colors retreated. 

It couldn’t have lasted much longer than fifteen minutes.

We happened to be present then.

Being present is something I’m trying to learn. I spend a lot of time not being present, worrying, or using information overload or social media noise to block the things I worry about or fear. Being present doesn’t necessarily take away those worries or fears. It does remind me there is more. Being real about what is happening in the world includes beauty along with the hard. Moving toward both together, neglecting neither, provides a balance I need.