Pink

photo by Altercator

“In the pink,” is an old-fashioned (and probably obliviously racist) saying that refers to being in good health, so to say of someone that they look “in the pink” is a compliment even if it assumes a particular conception of health.

But you can certainly understand why pink is equated with well-being when you look up at the sky as see the contrails whose pinkness is so essential that it embodies every other color in the rainbow, which is why, after all, it looks pink.

Combine that with the opportunity to bask in the very last of the particles of light to act like waves as they pour forth from the twilight; there is the evening star inviting all the other heavenly bodies to show up as well.

Meanwhile, you can sort of simulate floating if you stretch out on the pebbles, especially if your head is pointed downhill; the celestial sphere never fails to illuminate, although the first time is particularly swell.

Sometimes our imaginations get the best of us and we can’t help comparing what is to what could be but on a night like this, there’s a strong case to be made that the two combine: what is should be and vice-versa so that any feelings of missed opportunity or regret are entirely in support of the overall.

Maybe we need examples of our aspirations realized to really see what we had in mind all along; a fire might have been nice, but you surely one can’t think that the perfect hasn’t declared armistice with the good; enough is plenty whether it's all or not.

Silhouettes make everything quieter while two-dimensional imagery does little to establish the veracity of experience.  Humans loom as large as buildings, which is saying plenty for things that aren’t programmed to look up and out.

The harder you try to achieve apotheosis, the less likely it is so come about.     That’s why it’s always pink, even if you’re blue.