One of my friends called me last night and said that we were going to go to the mountains at almost dawn.
Feeling a lot of turmoil in me and wanting to walk, like always, like a free bird, appreciate the pristine land and the pure existence of the mountains, I immediately agreed to his request.
It can be said that I am the only girl who always accompanies men to the mysterious forested mountains at night in a masculine atmosphere. And the seemingly horrible, and terrifying umbrella of the trees that have overshadowed and darkened the wet ground of the jungle at night do not frighten me.
One of the wonders I recently discovered is the changes in the colors of the sky from night to dawn toward daylight.
Colors are extraordinary pieces of a repetitive cycle. But for us who most of the time pay no attention, they seemed a new occurrence.
Near dawn, the colors of the sky started changing before my bewildered eyes.
At first, the dreadful black gradually changed to dark blue.
Suddenly a pleasant red-blue resounded across the sky, which was the most beautiful part.
Then it turned almost yellow and greyish
After a while, it turned bright and seemed to have lost its colors all at once.
And it wasn't long before whiteness filled everywhere as if you would forget all together witnessing the wonderful rainbow just a while ago. We were coming down then.
