189

Driving down U.S. 189. The air is already chilled while the sun has not fully set. The sky is painted with an orange glow and a light blue haze of colors, surrounded by giant clouds. I see a few deer walking along the road. There must have been at least seven or eight grazing the pasture to my left. I slowed down a bit to not frighten them in case they might run into the road. Two of them were eating grass while the rest, just as I was a moment ago, were gazing at the sky. Almost as if they were admiring its beauty.

Within a few seconds, they were gone from my line of sight, and I started to look forward again. I continue down the road while listening to the audiobook "Oms en série” quietly in the background. The sun is now at its civil twilight. My eyes do not seem to be able to grasp what beauty they are witnessing ahead. I am in awe. The sky, now turned dark red with splashes of orange, has covered the clouds in it. Bursts of orange are spilling from the center, with a beam traveling upwards. A thin white line slashes the sky. A tint of light green and blue is just above— while it slowly fades to black as it reaches the Kármán line.

Suddenly, the moon appears ahead in the distance. It seems to be a speck in this vast sky, yet, still holds such beauty sitting up there. Being consumed by such a view I pull my car off to the side of the road. Stepping out, the gravel crunches beneath my shoes. The wind-chill catches me off guard but my body quickly overcomes the feeling of coldness. Studying the sky above, my mind has no thoughts. I feel so present on this earth—in this moment.