Time moves slowly, then quickly, then slowly.

We leaned back against the cold, hard incline.
A framed square of sky above.
Look at the short narrow cloud in the upper left quadrant of baby blue.
It kind of looks like a white cheeto.

Two people get up and walk out.
Others rustle, and I hear a man snoring.
I question my own attention span.
The cheeto is already in the bottom left quadrant.

The sky is rosy now.
A bird flits diagonally across the right side.
A microscopic plane steadily divides the square up the center.
The cheeto is gone.

Artificial blue light fights with the sky's blue.
The square slowly then quickly becomes warm and grey.
Then slowly a sickly cool yellow-green.
Surrounded by diffuse neon violet.

When did the sky become so quiet and dark?
A blink ago it shouted proudly at the orange.
Minutes pass which feel like hours which feel like seconds.
Suddenly, inky indigo-black.

James Turrell's "Twilight Epiphany" skyspace on the campus of Rice University, Houston, Texas.