Equanimity Byron Hoot The sunlight is silver, the clouds a light lavender between the gray and white, above the yet dark tree line on the horizon, the time before full light. The scene will change. The clouds shift in color and shape, the light losing that silver tint to the golden light of day, the slow, steady movement by the sun in moment and degree moving from east to west. That eternal certainty in a context never the same. The sun affected by or affecting the changes of the seasons. If this is in the sun, why is not so in me? This ambiguity of first and second causes, the eternal certainty in the face of change, the equanimity that nothing remains the same except the beauty of how things fit together.