At home in the city, the summer sun grabbed my arm through this tree outside my living room window, then started to pull away.
That sun was intent on going somewhere. As it left, tree limbs and leaves turned into darker shapes and shadows. I wasn't ready for that. So I chased the sun up to the roof, hoping for a bigger view of things.
Here's the bigger view.
Colors took over. I wanted to jump into those clouds, join that movement of swirls in the sky, a quiet, high tide full of some larger direction--all of it heading beyond where I was.
Then. Something. Shifted.
A sensation, a nudge to what? I remembered that I was on a roof that belonged to a house. My house. I let the sun go. I stepped back inside.