The day turned pink
The day turned pink as the autumn colors gleamed in approaching sunrise. A fat bee slept on the screen, waiting to breakfast, I imagine, on the late season pollen. Marigolds and nasturtium still pop up, along with petunias. I went to a circus on Sunday, and this is what I saw:
No safety nets. Sheer drops that could end in disaster in a play premise that disaster has already happened. Traces depicted seven performers who took enormous risk as the audience watched with either breaths held, afraid to stir the air to cause a slip, or shrieking in response to the tension. The shrieker sat somewhere behind me.
Here is another situation, but as a viewer, there is less immediacy of danger:
A woodpecker drills into a tree. The day will tease with warmth, and later, the temperature in the week will plunge back down. I sit still here, except for my typing fingers, as the sound of breezes and trucks begin.