500 Words Per Day: Living Out Loud

The sun was living out loud today. I woke up to its massive heat and light illuminating the morning sky. It was red. As the wore on the heat only increased; although, I scarcely felt any of it until it was time for a rather random monthly fire-drill. It went well and I think the students enjoyed their ten minutes of fresh air.

Then it was back to work inside the cool, hardened classroom.

This evening I went for a walk with my wife. The wind was rather fierce which made the walk just a little bit uncomfortable–especially when it was blowing directly into our faces. We made it back safely at which time I happened to look out the back window to see the setting sun was as yet unwilling to surrender it's reign for the day. The skyline was all alive with the blood-red light glowing and clutching like the sun was a man drowning in the ocean, gasping for it's last breath, reaching for someone to lift it back to life or for something cling to.

I take comfort in the fact that somewhere, right now, while I am here encased in artificial light inside and crushing darkness outside, the sun is still shining somewhere on the earth. I take comfort in the fact that while some of us are in the dark, someone is in the light. Shadows may live in a whisper in the light, but monsters live out loud in the dark.

The sun was so warm today. Living the past several months in the dreariness of the cold, it's hard to remember that the sun didn't change it's temperature and that we were just tilted differently for several months which only made the sun feel colder. The sun was living out loud today and I don't think there was a person on the face of the earth complaining about it either. After living indoors for the past several months, after scarcely feeling the soft warmth of the suns rays for so many months, it was comforting to know that it was still there and still loving us.

Winter was so melancholy this year. It was just so suffocating. I felt helpless all winter, trapped in a never-ending oppression of cold and bitterness. The clouds were stifling. The chill in the air went straight to the bones. We lived quietly all winter–trapped with one another, trapped within ourselves–and seeing so much of one another that were like manna in the desert when we were longing for quail. And perhaps we took one another for granted as the time passed this winter.

Winter was cold and dirty. The snow was not the fun kind of snow. It was the annoying kind of snow that only lays down long enough to suppress movement and activity–enough to slow us down to the pace of snails, to curtail our hummingbird like tendencies.

Today the sun was living out loud again, out from under its shroud. And we too.

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