I was driving a minivan loaded with stepkids, sitting in Phaholyothin Road traffic. There had been thunderstorms off and on all night. The rain had stopped for a moment, but you could almost feel the burden of the clouds just above the car.
Off the right side of the freeway, between office buildings and tract homes was an undeveloped plot of land. In the center was an enormous tree; planted, perhaps, in the front yard of some long extinct farm.
The clouds suddenly pulled away from each other just over the tree, which was lit in a shaft of light. The high grass that ringed the meadow was wet emerald green. It was impossibly beautiful. Then, as I watched, a white egret flew from the tree, and another and another. They streamed out in a line maybe 20 or 30 long into the sunlight and continuing on to the hills where the clouds were ragged with rain.