This morning I was stunned by the sky.
Half the sky was made up of dark rainclouds. The other half was blue.
But no, it was more startling than that sounds. The rainclouds were dark and roiling, angry-looking. The blue was a perfect gleaming torquoise, and the sun was streaking through. I love those sun streaks that look like a giant eraser had removed the blue and found the shining yellow underneath. The dark clouds were edged with bright yellow, as if in direct combat with the sun.
And this evening as I left work, the sun had won. The sky was a perfect blue.
That victory is as perfect a metaphor as I can imagine for the Vernal Equinox, which begins tonight at 8:07.
