Many a time when I’m stuck in traffic, I look up and name the
sky by its characteristics. With the
rain storms we've been having recently, I've been calling it a Mottled Sky--the
clouds have been bubbly mixes of charcoal and pale grays. Some past afternoons,
as the sun is setting, the color of the sky is painted with light blues, smoky
pinks and iridescent purples. These times, I named it an Eye Shadow Sky.
My favorite is a Jazz Sky—that involves fluffy, cottony
clouds and a sparkling azure sky. I came
up with this name a few years back completely by accident. On our weekend
drives before our son was born, my husband and I couldn't agree on a radio
station. My preference was (and still
is) Smooth Jazz, like Spyro Gyra or the Rippingtons. My husband believes there are two kinds of
music to listen to while he’s in the car: Country and Western-- take your pick!
Though Country Western music is not my first choice, I do enjoy it; however, my
husband thinks Smooth Jazz involves tuning instruments and playing the same
chords over, and over, and over again.
One day, as we were driving, the weather was not stormy any
more. A welcoming blue sky with white clouds was upon us. It felt great not
having the cold rain pelt us and wanted to hear some Smooth Jazz to match the
mood. I slipped in a Spyro Gyra CD in the player; the uplifting and tropical Morning Dance filled the speakers. My husband asked me why I switched the music and I
announced with gusto, “It’s a Jazz Sky!” He smiled and from then on out, if the
day had this Jazz Sky, I had a free pass to play Smooth Jazz. Sometimes, I
would try to be sneaky and convince him that a sunny day with wispy clouds counted
towards a Jazz Sky. Alas, the criteria had been determined and George Jones
ruled the airwaves that day!
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