Sunrise.

"Red sky in the morning, sailor, take warning.
Red sky at night, sailor's delight."

It's supposed to rain today, according to the weather forecast. As I sit here at my desk at work, I can see the sky grow lighter as the sun starts to come up--a big change from earlier this week, when the fog cover was so dense that it threw my internal clock completely out of whack and it was time to go home before I knew it.

But strangely, this morning, the sky starts to turn lighter from the west before it goes brighter in the east. It's pretty out there off in the distance, a lovely pale golden glow that makes me stop and just look for a little while, makes me relax and take a deep breath, to be happy that I'm alive.

And then, finally, it started to lighten up to the east, to the far left part of my office window, and the sky is painted in streaks of bright pinks and reds. It's so intense at first, so bright that it almost looks scarlet against the slight tint that these windows have, then it fades, as the sun starts to rise higher.

Soon--almost too soon--the pinks and reds are overtaken by gray, and I hear my stepdad's voice echoing in my head. "Red sky in the morning, sailor, take warning."

I can't explain it, but I almost hope that it rains today. Something about that prospect lifts my heart, makes me smile.