written across the sky

If I leap into my car and drive off in almost any direction, I will pass by this fence or something similarly rustic.  Beyond will lie grassy meadows and woods deep and green. I always get the urge to drape a quilt over the peeled, gray, drying wood and take a picture. It seems such a perfect backdrop for color.
Today turned out to be exactly the right day to indulge that whim.
I have recently finished piecing the top of a quilt.
I state that matter of factly, but I am enjoying a sense of giddy release.
I had been pressing and pinning and measuring.
I had been hunkering over rows of blocks.
I had been peering through my reading glasses at mile after mile of quarter inch seams.
It seems miraculous that all of those little pieces, all of those little seams pinned and pressed have become at last a billowing quilt top.

It feels like it should be shaken out and unfurled to the light.
It feels like it should be viewed from a distance.
It feels like it should be announced on the front page of the paper or written across the sky but I'll settle for the fence photo; hung over a fence and photographed for posterity.

 The sandwiching and basting and quilting lie ahead, but today I am celebrating.