Tonight as I walked the Lake, the sliver of the new moon rose in the rose tinted sky and then as the sun set, it too set, growing larger and more golden the closer it fell towards the horizon. I marveled at the perfect symmetry and the frosty golden hue my camera couldn't capture...too far away, just as the lens distorted the coloration of the sky just a short moment before when streaks of fuchsia vied on a canvas of blue as lines of white bubbles crisscrossed the sky. All I could do was record the magnificent show with my eyes...it's times like this when one needs a paintbrush or a more powerful lens.
As I walked counter clockwise chasing the declining moon, buildings blocking my view until it was completely lost from sight, I thought about timing and how I came out just at the right time, how I would have missed the spectacular sunset if I'd left the house a moment too late, or tarried too long at the top of the cascades exercising.
50 sit-ups, 20 push-ups, 30 swats, legs stretches on the bars, step-ups, and other limbering up motions and I started down the stairs when I looked up and couldn't take my eyes off the heavens.
I even tried to film the event...too far away, the colors don't even approximate the loveliness--the Creator's paintbrush was dipped in heavenly paint. I got a call from a friend and then looked up and there he was. As we walked, I felt lucky to have his companionship--it meant I could walk beneath the trees, on the lesser well-lit paths, walk the interior circle, across the beach--those places I avoid after sundown.
We saw a Kwanzaa gathering at the Boat House as we cut through the bird sanctuary. A child was lighting a candle. The room was full, everyone seated, the black liberation flag visible across the road as where we walked.