It had been a very scattered day, finding out early in the morning that my mother had been taken to the hospital. My sister was there with my Dad and nothing was too seriously wrong, so I stayed home and tried to work and stay ahead of my deadlines and teaching preparations. I would be there tomorrow. Tomorrow was soon enough.
I worked all day and got things done but never really felt a sense of accomplishment - my mind was across the river with my mother. Back and forth, inside
and out, up and down stairs, hither and yon (really, I was yon). On one of my final up & down trips of the evening, passing the front door, I saw a rosy glow of light that drew me outside once again. My little spot of heaven was bathed in this warm glow...something that I know occurs with many sunsets, but is rare here inside these city walls. I had to capture it to serve as a reminder for me to keep looking at the world through rose-colored glasses, even when times are tough and stress runs high. As a reminder that everything is fleeting, not only the beauty of a sunset, but the worry that accompanies having a loved one in the hospital, the pre-trip preoccupations and crisp, cool fall evening such as this one that was presented to me as a gift from the Universe.
The pink sky disappeared all too fast and I cast my eyes downward only to find a new light, the welcoming glow from my own front porch and a golden (almost rosy) glow drawing me back inside. I felt more centered, calmer and secure, rewarded actually, by the blessing of the sunset - something I may have missed altogether if I had not looked up. Looking up. It's a phrase my dear friend and I use often. Better to look up. Train yourself to look up. Be always looking up. Look up to keep from feeling down. Life has loveliness to sell, all beautiful and splendid things, blue waves whitened on a cliff, soaring fire that sways and sings, and children's faces looking up, holding wonder like a cup. ~ Sara Teasdale