Turning the corner of the lake, looking back towards home, the glowing lights of 99 at the far end, off to the right towards the East towards the mountains starting to whiten with snow were clouds glowing with a dirty pink, almost a brownish pink. As if someone’s pink sweater was drug through the mud then light with a spotlight from behind. It was beautiful. The clouds seemed full of rain, darker towards the edges lighter in the middle. Stacked on top of each other and all of them glowing with that brownish pink. Westward the Olympics were barely visible, mid mountain was visible the bottom blocked by land and the top blocked by horizontal sheets of darker clouds coming in. Around the last corner of the lake the bright Eastern clouds had faded taking on the same ominous color as the darker Western clouds. Everything fades from bright to dark and hopefully back again.