But that seems to be the very problem. Did the sky's less than colorful face subdue the fullness and strength of my thoughts, or had my soul's disposition made the dark skies darker itself? I know all too well the way the state of my mind affects my experience of reality. I might be wiser to ask how much effect reality really has on my state of mind.
In the midst of these thoughts I saw a peak of orange-red light through the trees. Like a child who sees his parents after a long absence, I pursued it, leaving my pack and belongings on the side of the trail. As I ran through the trees and neared the top of the foothill on the side of which I travelled, I wondered what drove me with such ferocious passion to the minuscule amounts of light which, to my calculations, must have the beginnings of a sunset. I reached the highest point and, gasping for breath, I looked up and saw for the first time in months a clearing sky. After a few more moments, as strong wind moved away the fog, I saw the green and red valley beneath me, trees gently swaying to the breeze. In the mountains adjacent, billowing clouds, and forests on the perimeters of the mountains touched with the golden glow of the descending sun. I stared and contemplated. I am a subjective being, and yet my mind was shot with the strength of pure understanding. As I gazed with the piercing light of pure contemplation, I saw the world for what it is, stripped of the blinding haze of my lower human nature, even for a brief moment. With the world I one became, even for a brief moment. I saw the day that we all have this knowledge, when we in our souls become solid and are no longer controlled by the shifting shadows of our desires, even for a brief moment. The wind, just as it took the fog and clouds away, replaced them soon after, and as the sun went further down I found myself surrounded in darkness yet again. But the darkness wasn't so dark this time. With words unspoken, God yet had spake. And it was enough to keep me going through the night.