I have been reading the wonderful Fagles translation of the Odyssey
. There is a beautiful line that repeats again and again, somewhat in the role of “meanwhile, back at the ranch,” that speaks of Dawn, with her rose-red fingers. The arrangement of my daily schedule usually prevents me from from seeing dawn, and the sunrise. This morning, however, I walked Beanie to school and then continued on to work. When we left the house, the sky was the most brilliant rosy-red, and I had some sense of what Homer must have been seeing when he wrote of Dawn with her rosy-red fingers. Feeling very happy, and wanting to share, I explained to Beanie about Dawn, and her rosy fingers pulling back the curtain of night. Beanie’s response? “The sky is pink.” Maybe someday.
. There is a beautiful line that repeats again and again, somewhat in the role of “meanwhile, back at the ranch,” that speaks of Dawn, with her rose-red fingers. The arrangement of my daily schedule usually prevents me from from seeing dawn, and the sunrise. This morning, however, I walked Beanie to school and then continued on to work. When we left the house, the sky was the most brilliant rosy-red, and I had some sense of what Homer must have been seeing when he wrote of Dawn with her rosy-red fingers. Feeling very happy, and wanting to share, I explained to Beanie about Dawn, and her rosy fingers pulling back the curtain of night. Beanie’s response? “The sky is pink.” Maybe someday.
