Sharon is an Asian-American content creator based in Austin.


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Disappearing Pinks, Purples

A recent past Friday, we drove up to Mt. Bonnell.

We found a flat gravel edge and pulled out tacos and queso, passing the Topo gingerly so that small rocks and sand stuck to the bottom didn't fall onto our food.

We talked, gazing over the water down the bend. For a few moments, the only actions around us, other than blinking broadcast towers or rambunctious youth complaining about spider webs, were really just the birds.

A hummingbird landed on a branch a ways in front of us, facing away. Its back blended in well with the greenery around it, so much so that you wouldn't have known it was there unless you saw it land. Swifts flew over our heads like little pairs of scissors coming in and out of sight, and we wondered if they were bats. I also heard the call of something I didn't know (and didn't find out).

Not too far from us to our left was a cardinal perched on a branch, and we could easily see him while he sang its song. He sang it nobly multiple times, and it bounced off the rocks behind us, the notes clear and pretty. After a screechy attempt at a bird sound back, the cardinal promptly left. He wouldn't have it, probably.

We stuck around for a few moments longer because of the niceness of the evening, and not two minutes later we started getting bit by mosquitoes. As we got up to leave, the sun had disappeared below the horizon.

It was gone before I had even realized it, and I wondered if I had even seen it move. Did I miss it? I must have. We were left with streaks of glowing pinks, disappearing into purples.