I flipped off the sky today. Gave it the good ol’ middle finger.
Because it’s perfectly gray–so much so that it completely devours the horizon. Does that even register in your heads, my Arizona friends? Imagine if you can: snow on the ground, thickly blanketing every other colour in the world with white. Then, take your bright blue cheerful sky and turn it the exact same hue as the stark white ground. Now get in your imaginary car (make it a Benz–no…better make it something with 4 wheel drive), and travel as far as it takes for the buildings and mountains to disappear. Go somewhere flat. Somewhere where the line between the sky and the ground is perfectly straight. Only instead of seeing bright cheerful blue on top and brown scrubby desert dirt on bottom…all you see is a drab, grayish white.
You never can know how much a horizon means to you until it gets taken.
Flipping off the sky didn’t change my situation. It didn’t change the fact that it’s 22 degrees below freezing. It didn’t stop the snow from flurrying into my car as soon as I opened the door in the Wal-Mart parking lot. Giving the sky the finger didn’t help at all. But short of screaming every foul, explicit word I know–with my head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, arms raised and fists clenched into threatening fists–it’s all I could do.
It made me feel better.