sunsets.
i drive around for a little while, trying to find the entrance to the water tower. it’s up at the top of a hill, with a wonderful view, and i’ve been intending to see the sunset from it all summer. the sun’s pretty much sunk beyond the horizon, but when i finally find the parking lot next to the water tower i can still see the golden clouds, far, far, infinitely far away. i park the car and turn off the engine and open the door and try to swallow the night.
the wind is strong tonight. it might be the elevation, or it might be change. i’m torn between the summer and the traditions i’ve been following since i was ten, and the new life i’m about to embark on— college beckons, but so does camp. i’m struck with the urge to write something. i search in the backseat of my truck for something to write on, and find an old envelope. there’s a pen in my purse. i lean against the hood, trying to find words to express what i’m feeling, but nothing surfaces. instead i’m wholly in the moment, and my future feels almost tangible.
perhaps this is what i needed— something to finalize the metamorphosis i’m going through… pull me from my past and push me forward.
or maybe not. i don’t know, can’t decide, don’t want to think about it, so instead i tuck the envelope in my pocket and lean back against the headlights, my elbows resting on the warmth of the red paint.
after awhile, i get back into my car and head home.
