Purple Sky

With a friend, my 11-old-year daughter recently began running – with an interest beyond beloved companionship and the ice cream at the trail’s end. Lacing up her shoes, I see a keenness in her, a love of knowing her body is capable of carrying her a distance.

In last evening’s sultriness, the girls witnessed heat lightening. The sky was purple, my daughter told me excitedly, and the air must have been alive with electricity. I could imagine these two pony-tailed girls running on Morrisville’s rail trail, their eyes wide, determining their route to safety.

These girls have never lived where the sky isn’t omnipresent; inherently, they know to watch the weather. They’ve never lived where the sky is obscured by smog, wires, buildings. Doubtless, they were frightened, but also in awe of nature’s magnificence, power, and certainly her beauty. And that’s one lucky thing.

Purple, my daughter reiterated. Amazing.

Let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof and instant coffee, to unemployment insurance and library cards, to absinthe and good-hearted landlords, to music and warm bodies… and to the “good life”, whatever it is and wherever it happens to be.

– Hunter S. Thompson

IMG_1853

 

 

 

About Brett Ann Stanciu

A writer and sugarmaker, Brett Ann lives with her two daughters in stony soil Vermont. Her novel HIDDEN VIEW was published by Green Writers Press in the fall of 2015. Let my writing speak for itself.
This entry was posted in mothering and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s