proteanme

Late last night I walked outside for a second to get something from my car and the sky was amazing. Clear, blue black filled up the large space right above me and a big pile of ghost clouds were gathered off to the north. I though about MTB sitting on her porch earlier and wondered if she saw the same thing or if maybe she was looking out from under the ghost clouds to where its clear. Hard to to judge sky distance and what exactly was above her, but I imagine it was something amazing too. This morning, riding into work, the clouds were stretched out across the sky with streaks of deep, clear blue riffling through, making those first 5 to 10 minutes on the bike so sweet. I found myself riding a little slower, looking around, thinking about all the amazing sky things I get to see on my bike, wishing I didn’t have to go to work and could just ride around in it and knowing I probably wouldn’t be up this early and be riding around if I didn’t have to go to work. (A tenable contradiction). In the 20 minutes it took me to get to the bottom of the tram, the clouds had grown thick and had covered up the sky. Looking out to the east as I rode up the hill in the tram cabin, it was mass of  various shades of grey. No pink peeking through. No glimpse of an almost undetectable strip of clear blue. Car lights snaked across the Ross Island bridge. Downtown sparkled. The Willamette trailed off into the big trees and an almost mist, looking like something the pioneers might have seen.

I felt so lucky like that I was up and awake last night and this morning to see the sky the way it was, looking kind of magical. Ever since the end of August, Friday August 17th to be exact, I have been so aware of moments like these, of showing up for something, even if I didn’t know at the start what I was showing up for. And now I am doing this amazing thing. And it’s like I just keep opening the door and saying, come the fuck in.