5 December 14

I searched the Internet and Naturalist field guides to find names for the colors dawn paints the morning, the shades of deep orange and pink that shade the sky behind the bare tree branches, hues that turn the tattered clouds into bruises, a deep indigo. The peach coral bleeds into tangerine, and red orange until the horizon has bled a sailor’s weather warning. The color follows the moon trajectory, spreads east, south, and west. And the sky swallows, until the color dilutes, fades into a pale pastel pink tinged blue and the promise moves in.