Items

• 2020-09-09

  Skating Under A Sunless Sunset

  September 9th, 2020. The first day in years where I wake up and I am terrified by what I see: the world outside my window is drenched in orange light. I blink multiple times and bolt up, making sure I am not dreaming and that I am in complete control of my faculties. I sit in my room, stunned, for a few moments, then go about my day as usual. I peek my head outside for a moment, and smell nothing in the air. None of the smoke that had been plaguing our noses for the past few days was permitted among the copper splendor. My whole morning, I am terrified of what this could potentially mean: that the fire was close. That we could be in danger. This leaves a bad taste in my mouth for the morning. After class, I go about my normal after-school activities, gaming on my computer and playing on the guitar. At about 6 in the evening, I decide to myself “screw it.” I pick up my board, put my earbuds in, and get out of the house. The orange is dimmer, but still terrifyingly beautiful to look at. I skate around, listening to my favorite music as I observe the neighborhood around me, the same shapes with different meanings now. I dare not to pull out my phone to ruin this moment, knowing a photograph or video from it will ruin the moment for me. I stop along Mangos Drive and just sit on the curb, board behind my feet, and I stare up, hearing only my music and the occasional car passing by. A true calm, I was in, one I hadn’t been in in a long time. And so I sat there, knowing where the sun sets, but seeing no sun. I knew when it did set, but not through sight. Through feeling. The lukewarm day turned colder, the orange dimmed to a vibrant brown, and I felt phenomenal. I skated back home, not caring to check how long I’d been gone, knowing it was well worth it however much time I spent out there. I snapped out of it, and continued with the things I had been doing before, playing games and the guitar. Not once, that whole day, did I smell or taste smoke. And I am grateful for it.