Norwich bulletin. [volume] (Norwich, Conn.) 1895-2011, 1910-05-07

Today the sun is not shining-except
in behind, somewhere. The sky is gray,
what hear spoken of as 1.-THE meanest
kind of weather." But UP toward the
north the gray is tinged with a deep
clear blue that melts as l watch it into
violet, then into amethyst and now in
to golden rose, all so beautifully blend
ed that one might wish opal gray were
the color of the world. To most folk,
perhaps the world is gray; pale, quiet,
colorless; or heavy and dark and
threatening; a gray monotonous, or
gray tiespaiTing. Perhaps too many of
US forget to look up, not down. and
SO fail to catch the glints and CLEANS
that break the clouds, glints of rose
and gold, CLEANS of violet and amber,
the opalescence of an ocean of sun
light shining all about us and in riffs
and ripples shining/ Through.
Whenever there is a CLEAN of sun
shine, my west window reflects it The
window is like an eye, opening to all
the beauty of field and meadow, of
tree and hill and wide horizon. Those
of US who make friends with the sky
know that it is always beautiful, be it
dun or dull, gray or black. crimson
Strealzed or blue; that it is always in
motion, ever changing, constantly pre-
Senting moving pictures that are never
twice alike, and are interesting not be-
cause of their beauty alone, but for all
that they teach and reveal. There is
exquisite beauty in gray day-soft
beauty that is half hidden and wholly
Elusive. If we look closely, we shall
see that the grayest gray is never really
dull, but rather a Simmer of rose and
gold and violet like bits if rainbow
wreathed in mist. Fragments of rain
bow are always signs in the heaven,
for those that have eyes to See
The sunset sky is radiant, and never
Watching it, it seems far off and elu-
sive, with its great drifts of tinted
cloud trailing across it, followed by
delicate hints and tints of color that
pale and palpitate as the sunset glories
fade. The sky, though elusive, is ia
miliar; though far off, yet not distant
nor remote. 1t bends above US, reach
ing down long shafts and ladders of
will: climb high above the deepening
dusk and the twilight of life, above the
fndefnable loneliness that tightenS the
heart when the last CLEAN of color dies
into night One of the deepest depri-
vations of Imprisonment must be to
be shut away from the familiar sky,
the great luminous dome that broods
us like mother and companions us
like a friend What measure of hope
can continue to live in the hearts of
those who are cut off from the inspira-
ton of wide herizons, of boundless
seas the bursting of tree buds, the pa
geant of sunset, the limitlesS depths of
starlit skiesl
To be friends with the sky means
something immeasurable in our daily
life. 1t means the look beyond, the
lifted eyes, the uplifted heart; ana
the looking up which makes the step
by step, the day by day, the one day at
a time both possible and bearable- To
shut off the sweep of the sky is like
denying to our fellow man his last,
least hope in God. Here in my west
window I sit and wait, earnestly hop
ing. for the day when the condemned
in his cell, the convict within prison
walls, the toiIers in sweat shops, the
child laborers. the agedd and the sick
in underground tenements, all may be
given their birthrigaht in freedom of
fresh air and sunlight, of star lessons
and nature studies, or less hopeless
work and more leisure for wholesome
play, more love and loving kindness,
more courage and enlightenment and
friendly fellowship, until the darkness
and bewilderment and sins of human
ignorance shall be blotted out by the