A perfect afternoon

I think I should have let the little tornados suck me up into the sky with the leaves. It was a strange afternoon to meet someone new for dinner, I admit in hindsight. Although it is a testament to our engagement in the conversation that we didn't notice what was happening around our small green picnic table.

As we walked back, I pointed up at the sky in surprise.

It was a startling and unnatural red, combining a sunset orange with a strong rust red that seemed more at home on mars or in an apocalypse. The wind was whipping past ominously, promising of a storm to come. I looked back the way we had come, and the burning sky transitioned into a bruised, brooding purple, the color of nursed resentment and vengeance to come. Beyond that, a mass of black storm clouds hung heavy and low to the ground, ominously making their way across the sky. The fire was ready to meet the storm, and the battle lines were quiet with anticipation.

I learned soon after that the forests had been burning, all the way across the country in California. How fitting for such a year. Maybe the sky really was depicting apocalypse. Two sides fighting to see which would be the final judgement of inconsiderate caretakers. So I'll amend my statement.

It was the perfect afternoon to meet someone new for dinner.