Sky

Think of the sky as the world’s biggest piece of abstract art, one that’s constantly being repainted before the oil even has a chance to dry. In the summer, it’s a massive “color field” painting—just a huge, vibrating slab of blue that feels so warm and bright it almost hums. There are no lines or borders, just this deep, saturated space that makes you feel tiny but totally free. It’s the kind of blue that feels less like a color and more like a mood you could just float away in. At noon, the sky settles into a calm, bright rhythm. The deep colors of the morning fade away, replaced by a soft, pale blue that looks clean and endless. High above, the clouds turn into thin, white wisps—like someone lightly brushed a bit of white paint across the center of the canvas and let it blur.

Instead of being messy or wild, the sky at this hour feels open and steady. The sun sits right at the top, shining so brightly that it makes the blue look almost silver around the edges. There are no harsh streaks or dark shadows; it’s just a massive, peaceful space that feels quiet, warm, and perfectly still. It’s the simplest part of the day’s painting, but also the most brilliant.