Why’s everybody looking at me
Like there’s something fundamentally wrong
Like I’m a southern bird
That stayed north too long
Winter exposes the nest–
Then I’m gone
(lyrics to Palimpsest by Smog)
I am not a Southerner, but I am not from here.
Sometimes I miss the skies of the place I was born more than anything else. I cannot describe how beautiful they are. The various combinations of clouds, all changing like a kaleidoscope, and the vivid, dramatic colors of the sunsets. The sky could be so blue.