Colors of Clouds and Dreams of Youth

As the sun started its journey westward, and left a slight chill in the air, it was time for me to pull myself away from sewing and bring the laundry in from the clothes line. Snowy white sheets and pillowcases, bending to the breeze like sails on an mighty clipper ship. The sky changing color by the minute. The clouds wispy and thin but full of color. Perhaps likened to pastel smoke. Pinks, purples with a bit of turquoise, wafting up from the suns fire in gentle puffs in amazing contrast to the evening sky. Part of me wanted to stop my work and run to the house for the camera. Always thinking about blog pictures, but another part of me, a more powerful need, held me transfixed to the unfolding drama that tied youthful dreams of sea faring adventures to this moment of reality. I knew if I had taken those clipper ship voyages in my early 20's I would have seen many a sky and sea of such beauty. Suddenly an old dream awaked like a small child on a cold morning.
Those dreams are not important to me now, not like when endless energy coursed through my veins. But still a piece of that want came to the surface and tickled my fancy.
I opted to stay and watch the sun fade and the sky grow more beautiful for its last few moments of glory before the sun was gone and replaced by the moons more quiet light. My job was done, arms full of sweet smelling linens. Like a child I buried my head in them for a moment and breathed in deeply.
When all chores were done, the sky still had color. Not that same smoky pinks and purples, but still pretty.
A moment in time, once here, never to return. I am glad I took it in and savored it.