(On the setting)
When I grew up in the city, I thought that the color of the sky was a light blue. Then, I visited the mountains.
The mira I spoke to first told me they dressed only in the colors of the sky. I scoffed - wasn’t he wearing red? I wondered only about where they got the necessary quantities of blue dye.
Then, one morning, I woke up early and couldn’t sleep. I settled for drinking my tea, and glanced out the window. I was greeted by the splendor of dawn, a riot of vivid reds and yellows.
The mountain air is clearer and sharper than what I grew up with. I can see further. Every now and then, I would become engrossed with the sky. I tallied up its colors, the infinity of blues, the blacks of night, the whites and greys of clouds, the violets, the reds, the yellows of dawn and dusk, all the minute variations in shade, always unique.I wear only the colors of the sky.