Breathe
By Mónica Hernández
No, it's not a stork, it's not Superman, it's not Supercan either. The gift that comes from the sky these days comes in the form of beautiful sunsets, sunrises that make you gasp a sigh or maybe two, that make your heart skip a beat with emotion. I have never lacked verbiage, but I have been speechless at the sight of these golden, pink and slightly orange tones swirling in the blue sky, a color that denounces cold, proudly showing the cleanliness of the air, thanks to a few gusts, still discreet, of wind. February promises big gales that I look forward to. I like the air to ruffle my hair, to cleanse my thoughts and lungs, because clean air also affects the body's general system.
My dear Edmée Pardo would say that you have to read the clouds. I don't know what others have read, but my screens have been flooded with photos, some amateur, others professional, of the sky that Mexico City has given us in these days of January. There are those who have read about catastrophes, UFOs, extraterrestrial invasions and other premonitions. Others, more creative, claim that they are eyes through which aliens observe us (as if they needed clouds to spy on us, really...). I, an inveterate reader, have been able to read the simple beauty, that which tickles the soul and brings spontaneous smiles that last for hours. I have only been able to admire and fill myself, through the windows of my eyes, with the beauty I contemplate. You, reader, reader, what have you read in the sky and in the clouds?
