She would wear strawberry like tomorrow’s moon and watch it rise, silent in her orbit. But not today. Today was about light and off to her left, her sky had no need for clouds, not even cirrus in her mind.

Her leaves would deal with the heat, like they always did and one day the rain would return but not now. Now it was about light bouncing off her retinas, wavelengths bringing mirrors to her world.

It was fine. Fine, in the sense of a sublime moment. Fine, in the serendipity of time. The light falling across everyone busying themselves with important tasks, while the third generation star raged hydrogen and helium around them, keeping them alive.

The star spitting fire, giving them this day to be busy in, to rush and worry when they could stop and look up, stop and feel the sun on their skin, when they could just stop and Be.

And she looks towards the mirror on their longest day and in the delirium of light she knows she can wear red again. Tomorrow, strawberry red like her rising moon still shining like their sun.