Yellow

Its dark blue up there. More dark with a tinge of blue. There are greyish splotches, irregular, patchy, which have also taken on the bluish tinge of the backdrop. In some directions, it looks mostly bluish, and in other places mostly greyish-blue. There were small white shiny specks last night. Today, none are visible. A starless night. A set of lights is moving away from the horizon, perhaps at 30 degrees, yellow in front, yellow in back, three other lights visible- one flashing white under the yellow one in the back, one flashing red, above both and between the two yellow ones. There is a third one which is visible only when the white one in the back turns off and disappears when it turns on. It is followed by a sound, a roar that fluctuates in volume, but is consistently loud. It trails the lights at some distance. Now the blue light has separated from the other two, and moved to the left at some distance, the red is not visible. The plane has turned in this direction and is flying off to the right. Suddenly, like a flashlight beam, a long stretch in front of it, almost as long as the plane itself, is illuminated in a murky yellow light. It is flying through a cloud. Now it is gone. Sounds and lights.

A baby is crying somewhere in front. A metallic clank as some stainless steel dishes are set down to be washed somewhere in the distance. The prolonged hiss and abrupt stop as the pressure cooker weight abruptly falls and shuts off the escaping steam. Five seconds later, another hiss. Another abrupt stop. A shorter hiss this time. A car horn, more talk- some people chatting in a room somewhere off to the right. Dogs are barking at each other, a chorus is building. A motorcycle horn. A slamming door. This time it is one of those wooden framed doors with mosquito netting spread over a thin diamond shaped metal mesh, the frame of which which is held by a spring so that it slams shut when released.

Some silverware, sounds like a bunch of spoons and forks, being set down. The condensed series of clinks. A light has turned off. Some curtains are thin and shadows are visible in the rooms. A fluorescent light, a tube light, shines from behind a tree, patched shadows from the black leaves breaking up the white light. Someone laughs. There is the constant trrrrr of a night insect, the pulsating, higher pitched squeaking of crickets. Unbroken, and underlying everything. Almost ignored. A television throws out muffled sounds. A dog squeals painfully. The whirrrrrr of a motorcycle engine and the beep of a motorcycle horn, closer and to the right.

Another pressure cooker goes off far to the left. The dogs are barking aggressively now.

Looking up, a large patch of dark blue has opened up. Some specks have emerged. 11 dots of brightness. Stars, perhaps planets. Some twinkle. Stars. Some do not. Planets. That's what they taught in "Earth Science" in 10th grade.

The clouds looked immovable, but they are nearly all gone. Even in the night sky, clouds move.

A slight breeze now. Something is chirping. The insects sound louder now. The sound of an owl screeching as it flies by in a blur. It looked white. So perhaps something auspicious is to happen here.

About 30 stars now.