He sat on porch smoking cigar, mark of ending to a week. Sun was set, already gone, and low clouds glowed orange with fuchsia shadows. Sky above shone teal and still in climb, blue of day remained.
Northern sky was softer than west’s. North tempered in begin of evening blush: sky blue-pink and violet in clouds where fuchsia shaded west, shadows lessened in the red.
How was it from where she viewed? How did sky paint and show? Was it citied view or open-wild?
He didn’t know, but wondered.
Maybe one day he’d learn.
