Halos, Snowfall, and What You See When You Look Up

I couldn’t hear the words, but I felt their urgency.

I’d been leaning against a tree yesterday, shifting from one foot to the other as I watched the east wind blow snow swirls across the open field.

When the sun hit just right, a million diamond flakes came into focus, shimmering like tiny constellations a few feet off the ground.

And there it was again.

On the far side of the field, I saw two people. One tall. One small. Dark outlines stark against white.

What was she saying? It was hard to tell, snow wrapping itself softly around all sounds.

I moved closer, feet crunching through ice-caked layers, leaving a clear trail of where I’d been.

A dozen feet off, a crow hopped alongside, keeping pace with me, onyx eyes curious.

“Luuuuuhhhhkupppppppppptttt!”

She was definitely screaming.

Repeating the same thing over and again.

I looked at the crow questioningly. The crow looked at me. Then, flew away, her shadow a few moments behind.

I moved closer.

“Loook up! LOOOK UPPPPP! LOOOOOOOK UPPPPPPPPPP!”

A woman. A child.

The child pointing to the sky.

Or a cloud. Or the tree. Or the bird in the tree.

Or something I couldn’t see, but she could.

Or something she couldn’t see, but wanted to.

Or an instruction. Or a command. Or a hope.

It’s difficult to communicate how urgent her words were; like everything that ever mattered was contained in that one moment, in that one plea: to look up.

What was I looking for? What are any of us looking for?

To feel safe. To be at ease. To know love. To live in peace.

Squinting from the sun’s glare, I closed my eyes for a moment; watching red and orange and yellow swirls dance behind my eyelids.

Hurling through space at nearly 450,000 miles an hour, the sun. 92 million miles away, a fiery ball of hydrogen and helium 100 times larger than earth.

Look up.

Opening my eyes, I see there’s a halo around the sun; its rays refracting through cirrus cloud ice crystals 20,000 feet above where we stand today.

Look up.

I see the woman, one knee in the snow, wrapping her child up in her arms, their breath in tiny clouds rising around them.

What do you see when you when you look up right now?

📷: The Classic in Chicago