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The sky is a frequent guest in my writing. For some reason, it always ignites my inspiration. Its appearance varies greatly with time and weather.
In summer, the sun sets much later. At around 6 o'clock, the sky turns into a blend of red and orange, as if a bottle of orange-yellow paint has been spilled on a red tulle, merging perfectly. The clouds at this moment are particularly beautiful—snow-white clusters edged with a silver lining that glows with golden light. This is the most beautiful time of the day.
In the early morning, the sky is like a piece of gauze torn to reveal a small corner, where sunlight filters through, dazzling yet hazy. The entire sky seems grayish, but that faint ray of light brings beautiful hope.
At noon, the sky is white tinged with pale yellow, and the sun shines brilliantly, making the light-colored sky enhance the sun’s dazzle. Sometimes, however, the blue replaces the usual white and yellow, painting the sky in a vibrant azure that harmonizes everything pleasingly. The normally white clouds adorn the horizon, their curves outlined by silver lines. Although the ordinary sky may seem unremarkable at this hour, there are always days when you encounter a bright, vast expanse so graceful.
During thunderstorms, the bright sky gradually fades from white to gray, then to black. The clouds turn gloomy, and the world is shrouded in darkness by the rain, as if a heavy darkness presses down, taking one’s breath away. If you live in the countryside, you might see a splendid rainbow hanging in the sky when the weather clears, as beautiful as a static oil painting.
At night, the pitch-black sky sparkles with countless stars, each shaped differently and shining with varying brightness. No matter how dark the night is, starlight or the moon illuminates people like streetlights.
The sky always gives me infinite reverie. There are still many different skies, and different places have distinct sceneries, but all are dazzling and beautiful.
