Aspen Allegations - A Sutton Massachusetts Mystery

by Kasi Blake

  Chapter 12

  I took a sip of my raspberry tea, staring at the glowing monitor on my inlaid-wood desk. It had been a long day, but I had begun to catch up on the work that had stacked up these past two weeks. A comforting sense of accomplishment blossomed within me.

  I glanced up at the pair of windows which lay before me and my brow creased in curiosity. I’d lived in Sutton for sixteen years and had seen about every face it could show. The coy, gentle mists of spring, the sultry, humid evenings in the summer, the nose-searing, frigid tundras of deep winter. But this was something new.

  The sky was glowing salmon.

  I stared at it for a long moment, then picked my camera up off the desk and headed to the front door. As I came down the front steps, I looked up – and stopped.

  There before me was a fully formed rainbow. I could see every detail of it, the shimmering colors from ruby red through tangerine orange to the duskiest violet. The trees in my front yard played peek-a-boo with its shape, but it was clearly there.

  I smiled with delight as I walked across the lawn to my driveway, then out to the street, strolling a few houses down to the left to get a better view over my neighbor’s house. Most homes in my neighborhood had left their trees intact around them – Sutton was a “Tree City” after all – but this particular neighbor had cleared out slightly more than the rest and this afforded me a better view of the full rainbow. The traffic on our street, always light to begin with, was non-existent at the moment. It was only 4:30 p.m. and the commuters had not begun their homeward trek. The street and the rainbow were mine alone.

  I wondered how many people were slogging away indoors on tasks for a demanding boss. How many were glued to their computer screens, as I had been, missing out on nature’s beauty? Was a large portion of the population playing Farmville or watching reruns of Survivor and missing out on this glowing kaleidoscope of beauty?

  Suddenly there was an odd ache in my heart; I wished Jason was there by my side. For so long I had been self-reliant, had forced myself to appreciate the glory of nature on my own. I would sit by the waterfall at the Blackstone River, thrilling at the rush of power and strength of the spring’s deluge, and thinking that perhaps it was meant for me alone. I had strived to take pleasure in the solitude, for lingering in sadness over it seemed to do no good. And yet …

  I breathed in deeply, the colors before me seeming to flutter and pulse. It was spectacular. Perhaps my photos would hold some small measure of the beauty, and I could share them.

  A thought came to me, warming me to my core. Maybe Jason was watching this very rainbow. He spent a lot of time outdoors; from our walks I knew he was just as much in tune with the world around him as I was. Surely he would have noticed the rich pink tinge of the sky, the beautiful half-circle of reflected light high above.

  We were sharing it together.

  At last a faint chill seeped through me. I had run out of the house without putting on a jacket and we were half-way into November, after all. Giving one last thought to those who had missed this stunning display of light and refraction, I turned.

  And stopped.

  I was now facing west. Before me was one of the most stunning sunsets I had ever witnessed. The entire sky was ablaze in golden color. There was brilliant yellow, soft tangerine, rich orange, softer amber, and a plethora of colors I could not even find names for. It was richer than any painting I had seen. The clouds streaked and stretched through the colors, adding a flame-like texture to the display.

  I smiled, and then began laughing as the beauty of it thrilled through me. Here I had been staring at the rainbow, feeling sorry for those who were missing the kaleidoscope that was right outside their window. And I, myself, had been holding my back to one of the most stunning displays of nature in my life. It had been right there. It had literally required only the slight turn of my head to see. And I had almost missed it. I had been completely unaware of its presence.

  Had I kept my head pointed toward my computer screen for a mere ten minutes longer, I would have missed every second of both the rainbow and the sunset, completely oblivious to the beauty today offered.

  I shook my head, drinking in the rich colors as they throbbed and eased, as they shifted and shimmered. Nature had created this magnificence. It had laid this banquet before me with no questions asked, no demands, a simple offering of heart-stopping glory. All I had to do was to look up. I merely had to have an open mind, an aware set of senses, and a compassionate heart. I had to be ready to receive. And here it was, the pine trees along the margins of the sunset providing a dark, crisp-edged counterpoint to the flow of colors.

  I wrapped my arms around myself, the chill fading from my senses as I soaked in the beauty.

  At long last the colors faded into ochre and rust and I headed back indoors. As I opened the front door I heard my cell ringing and went to pick it up.

  The voice burst from it the moment I answered. “Morgan! There you are. You missed it!”

  I smiled widely, my heart swelling within me at the compassion in Jason’s words. “I was outside,” I soothed him, moving to walk toward the dining area to look at the lingering remnants of the sunset. “I saw it all. I even took a few photos.”

  He sighed in relief. “It was spectacular,” he murmured. “I was worried you would be so caught up in your coding that you wouldn’t realize it was happening.”

  “I very nearly was,” I admitted. “But the salmon sky caught my attention, and then I was hooked. The rainbow … the tangerine sunset … it was stunning.”

  “It was indeed,” he agreed. There was a pause, and then he added, “I wish you had been with me.”

  My chest expanded at his words, at the echo of my own thoughts. “We shared its beauty,” I pointed out. “We were together through that.”

  A longer pause, and his voice was rough when he spoke again. “So you are heading out to have dinner with friends tonight? In Marlboro?”

  “Yes, it’s a monthly meeting. A support group, of sorts, for women who run their own web-based businesses. We share social networking ideas, marketing techniques, that sort of thing. It helps me immensely to have that brainstorming and cheerleading support.”

  “Well, you have fun,” he offered. “And drive safely.”

  “Of course,” I agreed, and we hung up.

  I stood by the sliding glass door, staring across at the clouds as they drifted into dusk.