It's not every day that I notice the sky. But in anticipation of a mom's morning out last week I became attentive to sways in weather. The potential for children to play outside for part of the morning was attractive.

Within the confined of a single afternoon the sky went from robin's egg blue to overcast with a chance of sprinkles, and finished with a sunset to rival a sleeping baby's cheeks.

What startled me was that the transformation was not partial. It was complete. From east to west. When had the cumulus sidled in? When had they shimmied out? It was like a scene shift in a play, with no black garbed stage crew in sight.

Changes in life happen without my attention. A friendship that had been strained for years has softened. I sent a Christmas card. She sought me out for conversation in a crowd where she easily could have avoided me. We laughed.

A woman who confided that her marriage had flatlined last year has been happier of late. She mentions her husband with lightness rather than criticism. While I know that Christmas pictures are cherry picked theirs seemed especially tender. Some smiles cannot be faked even in a photo shoot.

If we get time alone over smoothies I will ask how the wind is blowing.

 

Maybe the change has been gradual enough that even she did not look up at the sky.