The sky’s blue changes as I look from the horizon – well, as close to the horizon as I can see through the buildings downtown – to overhead. Palest blue with a golden hint, light grey blue, finally a bright clear, eye-watering blue. The sky overhead is full of pale white ghosts of clouds. Barely visible. It makes me homesick. Homesick for where?, I wonder. The arctic? Where the pale winter morning sky doesn’t light until ten? The west coast? Where a blue winter morning sky is like a miracle? Hawai’i? Where the morning sky and vast Pacific ocean seem to be one? Could I be homesick for a time and not a place? Could this morning’s Saskatoon winter sky simply remind me of times past?