Latitude adjustment

...

7:02 pm The light has been changing. A new angle wraps deeper hues of rosy pinks across Mt. Gower, highlighted with the brightness of waning light. As if it were afraid to die, it burns with an intensity not to be forgotten. The hill beneath it, which corners Gunn Stage and San Vicente, sits in a darkness, untouched by the light.

7:05 pm A thick cloud layer hovers over the Cuyamacas, showcasing unprecedented shades of gray, brushed ever so lightly by a purple feather.

7:09 pm The moon’s non-committed face seems to be in the foreground of the smattered clouds which smear the sky. (How can that be?) The swelling canopy of clouds is growing- both larger and more purple.

7:27 pm Barely a glowing of light’s remnant memory accentuates the white stucco on the hillside as the hills’ sleepy eyes grow heavy.

Those hills- I have climbed and played in them, been sung to by them, loved in them, daydreamed about them, watched them burn, and run from them. Tonight I breathed in unison with them, as they anesthetized my weariness.

When I was little I thought that if I jumped high enough, I could suspend myself long enough to be able to land in a different spot.

The earth is moving.

The light is changing.