The Sky: What is lost.

So here in Southern California, we've been dealing with wildfires all over the place. People have lost their homes, some have lost their lives, and we have all lost our sense of security. It wasn't just someone else that suffered a tragedy; it was someone we know. I know it sounds awful to say, but it is true that the closer a tragedy is to us, the more tragic it seems.

Really, why should the loss of a stranger's house be any more sad than the loss of a friend's house?

Perceptions of tragedy aside, the consequences of this natural disaster have been far-reaching. The first night, a cloud of what can be described as none other than doom spread across the sky. From the point when it could first be noticed to the point when it overcame us was approximately five minutes. It was bad enough for my friend and myself to run for cover and race to buy masks - it was quickly raining ash, and became dark. The air quality is still dangerous after five days.

And yet, I have never seen anything as beautiful, so serene, and so amazing as the sunsets produced by this disaster. It seems somehow appropriate that only something so powerful and devastating could produce something so beautiful - the moon framed behind clouds, glowing red; the sun setting, covering the entire horizon in red - it is truly, absolutely gorgeous.

I suppose that is an important part of life - no matter how bad things look, no matter how awful it can be, you can still always look somewhere and see beauty. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, isn't it? You decide what you see, you interperet it, you conceive beauty.

Being able to appreciate what you have helps you forget what is lost.