When Orange Night Skies Cried
I always felt it calling me. When the sky is heavy with orange clouds and the earth is saturated with snow and rain. Rivers of water penetrate valleys of ice, the ground is alive. Ambulance sirens scream eternal warning, throbbing white noise of the living city. Black branches form patterns like veins against that orange sky, drops of water and icicles reflect and spin webs of light. The swollen air is tangible, cold breaths intermingle with it. The fog is a veil around the inlet dancing on swirling pools.
I once used to pass by an abandoned building in the winter on a busy street in this city. A cold rainy night just like this, I would raise my eyes to the sky and look to its spires. Envision myself standing on the roof gazing into the night. I was invisible and I hunted, I watched people move about the streets like mice.
I wondered my favorite cemeteries when the weather was like this. An overwhelming presence consoled me here. I felt acceptance and I felt at peace. With each step I would sink into the soggy ground. Slush and mud enveloped each meandering path and swallowed each stone. Was I being watched from the woods beyond stone wall?
I can recall being in a seaside town on a night just like tonight where you could look out while rain pelted your face at the fast moving orange clouds. Buoys or fog horns bellowed periodically as if to beckon one nearer. I loved to walk the neighborhoods at this time. They were peaceful with residents’ safe inside while no one else but I prowled those hilly roads. The ocean was usually calmer on these dreary eves, slowly lapping at the sea cliffs. I could walk the sea wall along the entire town and see the city in the distance illuminate the clouds with that orange glow. Violate the vulnerable and open cemetery perched high on the grassy hill. Stretch my gaze over the entire landscape from this height. Feel the mist cling to my clothing and walk on damp earth. I could come down from the hill and skulk around the lower, darkest portions of tree lined streets. Unkempt vines and shrubs could be used as cover if needed. The silence felt so thick and the comfort of my surroundings was so great. The night walk would rise and fall, rise and fall just like the sea it partnered beside.
