Like floating questions, why?

I ended up walking home by myself this evening, and was mostly lost in thought and the music coming from my ipod. But as I turned up Columbus at the base of the Transamerica Pyramid, where the dark canyons of the Financial District suddenly give way to the open sky and building height restrictions of North Beach, I was faced with a most amazing sight.

It was marvelous. The sun had mostly set already, leaving the sky something to behold. First, there was a thin layer of gauzy cirrus in the upper atmosphere, still lit up by the sun, shimmering and pale. Much nearer to earth was a 2nd layer of clouds, rippled in long undulating pink strands across the heavens, like choppy seas of unraveled cotton candy. Below that, rolling over Russian hill was the fog, breaking up in swift-moving puffs of grey lavender. Adding to the drama, all three layers were moving at different speeds and in slightly different directions across the darkening sky to dizzying effect.

It seemed as if no one else bothered to look up or take notice, like I was enjoying my own private private show on a grand scale. The rest of the walk home I barely watched where I was going as I was staring skyward, smiling the whole way.