I just realized today is my last Thursday in Toronto ... .... ...
I don't know whether it has something to do with the fact I'll be on a plane next week, but I've been spending a great amount of daytime and nighttime staring up at the skies.
The other day I was waiting for the bus, and the horizon directly ahead of me had this perfectly pillowy cloud puffing up into the sky. It looked like something out of a cartoon (or like the clouds my mother would draw for my art projects as a child). A beautiful cotton puff with this amazing shade of blue as the backdrop. Standing there in the middle of rush hour, I actually started laughing because I caught myself getting so taken up by the scene.
That day after I got home, I was sitting on the balcony while The Ginge chased after birds, and I caught sight of a rain cloud. It was dark and grey, looking obviously threatening.... but still so spectacular! I watched it burst open, pouring buckets onto the hot pavement below. It's funny because it reminded me of a monsoon rainstorm in India - the sun was shining through the entire show.
Which brings me to last night. I was having trouble sleeping and decided to go out on my balcony an get some fresh air. I also wanted to see if I could catch a glimpse of the Perseid meteor shower. I didn't think I'd be able to see anything because of all the light pollution in the Big Smoke, but I figured I'd try my luck anyway.
As I stepped out onto the cool concrete and took a deep breath of fresh morning air, I found my eyes drawn to the skies again... but this time, to a thousand and one twinkling stars. I couldn't believe it! I thought I was imagining things (sort of like when you really want to see something and your brain starts playing tricks on you, leading you to believe it might actually be there).
I was amazed. What a way to begin two dozen! And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I saw a shooting star (a piece from comet Swift-Tuttle) zoom westward, from the corner of my eye!
Yes, I made a wish.
Why is it that when things happen between about midnight and 5 a.m., they don't seem so real? In that moment I was taking everything in, grinning like a dopey kid. But when I woke up this morning, it all seemed so surreal.
Anyway, that was my 48-hour affair with the skies! Mother Nature, after the mood swings you've made us endure this summer, I'm learning to love and appreciate all aspects of you!
Photo courtesy of Popular Science (meteor shower)