a Week's Worth of Sunsets

TUESDAY.

Soft and grey, clouds sit in the sky, remaining undisturbed by wind. The air has a light feeling to it and stays stationary around me. The temperature had been hot today, but in this odd twilight, it is a mild warmth. Birds call to each other all around, though the sound seems somehow muted - quieter than it should be. And the scents in the air - there are many, yet one stands out. A bold smell, thick and rich, it is vile and inescapable. The thing is that I know the scent. It is not one of those smells that I know, yet cannot place. I can easily recognize this scent that plagues me.

It is the scent of serenity.

The world reeks of it.

I would like to say it irked me, it usually would, but...

There was something different about it tonight. I think usually silent nights are accompanied by cloudless and clear nights, so that sound isn't left to lay flat beneath it, but it was different tonight. The sky was smothered in these engulfing clouds of grey, and darker grey, and lighter grey. Just grey. With the spot of white where the sun is resting on the horizon, trying ever so hard to burn its way through the clouds to make a show, a spectacle. But it looks like tonight will be nothing but clouds.

Grey, choking clouds.