"Mummy, where is the American Red Thing?" asked Wren today.
"The American red thing?" I asked, confused.
"YES, The A-M-E-R-I-C-A-N Red T-H-I-N-G" said Wren, frustrated. "We seed in the sky camping!"
"Oh, the sun!" I said, relieved. "That was the sunset we saw at Deception Pass."
As we were leaving Deception Pass we drove across the bridge and saw a splendid red sunset across the water. On seeing it, Wren was overwhelmed by the red ball of light was and shouted to us in alarm:
"Look. I SEE IT. WHAT IT IS?
It is A ANGEL!
It is a BIG RED DRAGON!"
I call this Wren's first poem.
Here is the sunset so variously named: the American red thing, the angel, the big red dragon. It was far more splendid in person - to my camera the sun is white and the sky orange but through my eye the sky was a tone of shadow while the sun was a shimmering red ball.