The Ceiling of Heaven

Last night was the coldest of winter so far. This morning, a waning crescent of moon in the pre-dawn sky. Venus and Saturn too. The sky was the color of an indigo bunting. I once read that indigo buntings migrate at night, setting their course by starlight. Plutarch says the same about souls of the recently dead. Today’s is the latest sunrise of the year.

Indigo-Bunting

 

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