the sky is a beast

I
have taught
you
that the sky in all its zones is
mortal

- In The Skin Of a Lion, Michael Ondaatje

The sky took on many forms today. At 3.15 am, driving southbound over the moors to take my parents to the airport, it was as if the clouds had been rough grated into ice and snow. It came at the car in ferocious blinding swirls. We were utterly snowblind and buffeted high and dark in the shredded sky. It almost slowed us to a stop.
Later, on the way back, was the ice cool of the moon and the stars clear and bright after the storm hurried away the blizzard. The wet tarmac of the road mirrored the sudden clarity of deep space spectacle. Above and beneath the wheels of the car shone, both ink black and glittering.
After I made it back home and had a sleep came a walk with my boy along the river and bouts of sleet, then rain, then brilliant sunshine. And on and on... in a tempest.

The sky is a beast roused by the winds. I am glad to have shelter this night.