And Everything Will Cycle Through

Musings from the end of summer 2021.

Addey Vaters


Photo by Anca Gabriela Zosin on Unsplash

Life is a washing machine. This is the conclusion I recently came to as I was driving home one evening while twilight leaked out of the sky.

I have been feeling utterly overwhelmed, hopeless, and lost lately. I am working towards achieving my dreams but struggling to make it through day-to-day as the world seems to be crumbling around me.

I tend to have bouts of immense sadness during the summer, and these past few months were no exception. I wilt under the neverending sun and ninety-degree days — I am a flower that thrives in shady days with a crisp breeze. Couple the ingratiatingly hot weather we’ve had in Colorado lately with a dense layer of smoke hovering over the state brought to us by California wildfires, and my petals were wilting a bit more than usual. There were days my beloved Colorado Rockies were invisible behind a wall of gray, and weeks the sun bled red.

I guess you could say that the world outside matched the universe inside my mind.

And then, as it always does, the weather changed. Brisk northerly winds swept through the state and into the corners of my mind, clearing away the smoke for a moment.

I could once again breathe deeply and roll the windows down as I drove into the dusk of night. I could focus on something other than the dismal, gray, smog that had consumed my mind.

It’s during nights like these, where the mountains glow in silhouette as the sun sets and the perfect song comes on shuffle, that my mind, body, and soul can reset. It’s where I find inspiration, where I’m blessed with a moment of solace, and where the mundane collides with the divine.

On this particular night, I drove slowly with my face careened up into the windshield, admiring the clouds as cool air whipped against my face.

There was one cloud, in particular, that seemed iridescent, hanging midair in such a way that its tail caught the last few speckles of sunlight as the glowing orb disappeared behind blue-black mountain peaks.

I admired the shape of the whispy cloud as it glowed yellow and orange, trying to determine just what it represented. There were legs, surely — human-like and…



Addey Vaters

Writer, reader, cat lover, and tea drinker. Romance novelist in progress. Words in Adroit Journal, Vita Brevis, & others.