Two ravens flying with purpose to a destination they alone knew, came straight at me from far out over the bay. Behind them the pale blue sky was tinged with mauve and pink at the horizon. The first sunless morning of the season was breaking.
There is a quality of light here that staggers one. Sets you back on your heels. Those jet black feathers against that light made me suck in a breath and my gaze bounced between them, until they passed over head and my eyes returned to the horizon.
This will be my 13th winter here and the vistas never fail to give me pause, to take my breath away. Who needs the sun when your world is filled with skies such as these.