There are occasionally days, often during winter, where upward distance is indiscernible. It’s overcast days like these when it’s nearly impossible to tell where the light of the day comes from, when the sky resembles the background of a half-finished painting yet filled in. It almost feels as if one could walk a distance and come to the edge of the world, only to find out the space below looks just like the sky above.
Sometimes a broader picture is what we need to make sense of the world. Context reminds us that we’re not floating in an empty, grey abyss, reminds us there’s a sun above and earth below. You just can’t always see it.
It’s a quiet, dreary inauguration morning on Tennyson street.
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