I don't know if it was just the weather was like this, today, or if I'm only now finally noticing...but as I walked to dinner I suddenly saw how the gentlest of blues had painted the air above me, and drifting low and slow across it to my left and right were thick cottony clouds -- white on top, dark underbellies.
Until now, I'd never understood why sometimes people refer to the sky as being the color of a robin's egg, but the tenderness of the open spaces, touched with a hint of coming winter, helped me realize it's not just the shade that saying was referring to but also the fragility of it. And how rarely you become aware that it exists. It's dark outside, now, but even returning home, earlier, as the sun dipped behind the not-so-far horizon, I could almost feel its softness in the crispy chill, whispering a benediction in my ear.
I'm still in awe of such casual beauty.