The Watch Changes

I flew out the day he was released from the hospital.

There was no drama around it. No spike of fear. No second-guessing at the gate. He was stable. He was surrounded by people who loved him—people who knew what to watch for, who had been watching all along.

He was safe.

It was time for me to leave.

The flight left late afternoon, which meant I was treated to an unreasonable amount of sunset. One of those that just keeps going, as if the light forgot it had somewhere else to be. Screaming orange smacking up against gold. Gold thinning out but never quite disappearing. Purple into black.

Hour after hour of muse porn.

Somewhere mid-flight, the captain announced that passengers on the right side of the plane had a fantastic view of the aurora. “Get your video cameras out,” he said, “the lights are dancing tonight!”

I was seated on the left.

I knew this was something I didn’t want to miss. I passed my phone six seats down to the woman at the opposite window.

The request traveled passenger by passenger through exaggerated gestures over the hum of the cabin—me pointing at the phone, then the window, then making a vague rectangle shape in the air. She nodded. Thumbs up. We were in business.

She just didn’t know how my phone worked.

When it made its way back to me, what I had was a haphazard video of knees. Laps. Seat backs. The topography of economy class.

All I could do was laugh. Because of course that’s what it was. Squished up knees, not magical lights.

I thought about trying again. Explaining the buttons. Asking someone else.

But I smiled and waved thanks, then went back to my window. There would be other auroras.

For now, I had the sunset. Still there, doing what it had been doing all along. Just light, holding steady.

The watch had changed.

This week’s Creative Prompt: Work with what you have.

Not the better view. Not the thing you missed. The thing that stayed.

Make something from that.

If you try this, I’d love to know what you ended up working with.

Earlier in this series:

Part 1: When Noticing is the Work

Part 2: First Night

Part 3: Connections

Part 4: Every Day, Again