The Great Interruption

The Great Interruption

It was an early Wednesday evening

At a dining area in The Club

On top of Red Mountain

Seeing over the Magic City.

A dozen or so couples gathered

To celebrate the consecration

Of two new overseers

On the next day.

This was the evening before,

An evening of great anticipation.

The view from the dining area

Was from on high and widely expansive.

We could see parachutists in the northern sky

Gracefully floating into the downtown

Baseball stadium

For the season’s first game.

It was mid-April

And a kind of wintry-like spring.

Not warm, not cold.

At first, blue sky and breezy.

So, we went inside

After gazing the distant horizon from above

To have our celebratory dinner,

With doors to the outside yet open.

As the sun set

The western blue sky now a translucent orange,

A lovely hue, orange and yellow,

And streaks of red.

“Oh, my” was heard

From one woman at our table.

She asked her overseer-elect spouse

For his camera.

She walked outside again,

Left behind the dinner,

Marveling at the setting sun

And the multi-colored horizon.

Others at the dinner

Noticed, and walked outside

Joining their dinner mates

Devouring that awesome vista.

Dinner interrupted?

Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed.

It seemed like a long-lasting set.

Sinking, the reddish-orange disc

Disappeared.

Now dark, others in the dining area

Beckoned those outside

To return.

We have a celebration to complete.

The Great Interruption,

That colorful miracle of sky and setting sun,

Accentuated and confirmed

The celebration in the room.

It was

No Interruption

After all.