Azure
I thought I saw a star, in azure. Deep green tree-tops framed the sky. I was watching air and distant planes. In the center of it all, was a tiny fleck of light. Blue-white.
A cool soothing evening. The whir of the air-conditioning unit. Birds flicking by. I thought the star flickered, but that might have been the floaters in my eyes. Maybe it was a satellite, though it didn’t seem to move.
So then I guessed a planet, and named it, Venus.
In that endless baby-blue, whispy clouds drifted by. They were tinted pinkish-orange by the setting sun. A breeze moved over me. I looked away, to other places. Tree-tops going gold, a Rose of Sharon peeking out of the woods.
When I looked back, the sky-centered speck of light was gone.
Funny, that. It had seemed so steady.
Perhaps high altitude clouds were screening it from my view. Or maybe it had been a satellite, or plane: perspective granting it seeming stillness in that pale perfect blue.
The sky was deepening, now. Cerulean. The air a bit more cool. A bird fluttered by, way up, diagonal light shining on him brightly. I could smell someone cooking hamburger on an unseen grill.
I stood up, said “thanks”, and came in off the deck.