Tuesday night I walked home in a hurry. I could tell the sunset was going to be stunning. I leaped into the car and shot to the nearest open space. The sky turned to flames but the wind blew cold. A huge bird of prey, maybe a turkey vulture, flew across the sunset.
A few flakes of snow scattered through the air around my head.
Between winter and spring. Between cold wind and warming ground. Between land and sky. Between everything.