Blue Hope

Autumn is walking us toward winter these days. Night hangs on a little longer and lets go a little more stubbornly with each passing day. It seems a little harder to shake off sleep in the morning and to rejoin the Land of the Conscious.

The sky was deeply gray as I left home last week. Rain fell steadily. The thunder which accompanied it was more grumbly than powerful, and even the lightning seemed weak. It was one of those mornings.

Then, about halfway through the trip, I noticed a small hint of a blue hue in the distance. By the time I reached Bountiful, that small hole in the clouds had grown enough for a stream of sunlight to shine through.

Life is dreary sometimes. But even when the sun seems to disappear for a time, it is never gone.