Pastels scratch a very specific itch in my brain.

So, I have synesthesia. For those of you who have been following me for a while, you probably already know this, but for those of you joining in for the first time, allow me to explain. Sounds have colors and textures for me, music especially. Words have colors, names, voices, letters, numbers. Everything has a color associated with it.

See, a song isn’t just a song; it’s more like a whole light show for me! And colors have their own sort of feelings, too, which probably sounds strange if you don’t experience it. Some colors feel like a deep breath, while some feel like static. By extension, this means that the sounds themselves have feelings! Wild, I know.

Pastel colors, though? Pastels scratch a very specific itch in my brain. I don’t know how to describe it. They’re soft, but they don’t feel weak; they feel like they know exactly what they’re doing. And nothing—and I mean nothing—does pastels quite like the sky.

There’s this window, right when the sun starts giving up for the day, when the light goes golden and clouds catch it, and suddenly everything is peach, lavender, and this beautiful pale pink that almost doesn’t look real. It doesn’t last long, either. I’ve stood in parking lots and just stared. I’ve pulled the Jeep over for it before! (If you’ve ever driven past someone standing in a field at dusk just staring straight up, mind your business.)

Skies like that feel like a specific song to me. Nothing loud or heavy, but something soft, almost whimsical. Bouncy, if you will. Like dusk at 7PM and it’s 70 degrees and you’re driving with the windows down. Like that!

I wonder if the feeling pastel skies gives me is because of my time spent playing Spyro as a kid. I mean, have you seen those skies? The atmosphere? The vibe? It’s a whole thing, so I can’t help but wonder if that’s a part of the reason why I love seeing pastels so much, or why cotton candy tastes like pastel purple. Not sure if that connection makes sense to anyone else but me, but I threw it out there anyway.

Another thing about pastel skies is that it feels like they’re telling me to slow down. The world often spends all day turned all the way up, but then the light gets softer, the air gets crisper, and the sky paints itself in pastels as the day winds to an end.

All this to say: go outside at golden hour. Find a field, parking lot, or back porch, and just look up. Watch the colors melt together, feel the breeze, listen to the crickets, and just enjoy all that nature has to offer in that moment.

The sky does this all the time, but noticing it always hits different.