Eventide

After the rain showers, there were streaks of pale pink, which turned to salmon. Then the sky began to glow and become more brilliant. Suddenly the western slope of the hillside to the east burst into a vibrant orange glow, each tree illuminated in the waning rays of the sun. Now the salmon streaks were deepening to raspberry, approaching what we wish neon lights could replicate. Then blue gray strips of clouds began to race more quickly, spurred on by the cold front, compressing, colliding and falling down like a curtain on a stage. The raspberry, now tinged with yellow, was just a shimmer on the horizon. The show was over; my camera still in its case. I hadn’t dared to take my eyes away from the sky. How could I ever have captured the grandeur?