As I drove down the Lincoln bypass last night there was a wonderful picture in the sky. It merited a 1000Megapixel photo taken with a panoramic lens. The problem was I didn’t have my camera with me and in any event I don’t think they make them yet to quite that high a spec.
I mulled over in my mind how I would describe the effect of that sky using only words. I couldn’t see how I could come close.
The rain had not long moved on and the sky showed the remnants of that activity. Shreds of clouds, strays and waifs of irregular shape and disposition. The pallet that was the sky consisted of eggshell blue, dark grey blues, clouds both grey and white and a white crescent moon suspended amongst it all but looking out of place.
I don’t think any art survives for ever. It all eventually is lost or dies. Last night the painting in the sky lasted until it was almost dark and then disappeared. On my way home it was gone. There will be another but it will never be the same.