Telling the sky

My friend, Cherry tells me that she's enjoying my recent and frequent sky posts on social media. The influx of material (ie, photos) is a result of the quarantine.

Like I said here, the practice is new to me. Then I remember that way back in the past (ie, 10 or so years ago), I was already an avid sky watcher. And even wrote about what I saw — tweeted them.

Twitter was a different beast back then, a gentle, playful one. I owned a Palm Treo and willingly paid P15 to tweet via text. Imagine the value of words and the cost of being heard. I would report the state of skies.

Telling the Sky I

Morning, birds are heading west
where colors abandon their clouds.

*

A pearl suspended in felt.
The moon too close, too real to pluck.

*

Morning, pale blue all over.
East an early arson.

—Razel Estrella (2009)

Back then, the commute to and from work was a form of respite. I got to look up and long enough, whether from a vehicle window or while walking on empty streets.

There must be several factors that explain why I stopped, but there's no point in investigating them. What I want to do is make a compilation à la Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, and in the process keep the habit of looking.