It's a Big Sky

For months after my Dad died I was drawn to the sky. It was so big, so vast, so beautiful. The summer was turning to fall and the clouds were different everyday. I would sit at my desk at work and stare out the window into the sky, the cloud formations, the changing colors as the sun was setting, always mesmerized, not necessarily the beauty of the sky or the shapes the clouds were making, just drawn to staring at it.
I was completely baffled by how I hadn't noticed how expansive the sky was. Sure, you know the sky is big, but all of sudden it was completely striking to me how far it went on for, how uninterrupted it was even in Boston. I remember sitting in my car driving West on the Mass Pike one evening just totally taken by the sky, how far it stretched for beyond the city and suburbs around it, how interesting the cloud formations were and different in various parts of the sky. I took picture after picture wanting to capture it, doing so to some extent.
I've stopped looking at it as much, maybe its because I'm in a bigger city, maybe I just move too fast now to remember. I found the pictures I took that evening and it got me thinking about the sky again, how taken I was with it months earlier, how much a part of my daily life it was. What did it mean? I have some hypotheses, but it all points to the passing of time and how it changes you, heals you, gets you to a place where you don't have to look up as much to know where you are.