There is something about the way the sky catches fire over still water. This evening the colors stretched from deep orange to soft pink, reflected perfectly on the surface below. We stayed until the last bit of light faded and the frogs started up.
Nights like these remind you why you live here — not for the traffic or the rent, but for moments like this one, where the whole sky turns into something you couldn’t paint if you tried.
We parked near the south end of the lake, where the reeds thin out and you can see all the way across. The water was barely moving. Every color in the sky had a twin on the surface — doubled and softened, like looking at the world through a window.
By the time we left, the sky had gone from gold to violet to a deep, quiet blue. The kind of evening where you don’t say much on the drive home.