He stared fixedly upward as if his eyes were devouring the blue. He needed to be present, to understand and feel what the sky had to offer him. There was no more security beyond this Samaria. No promise that this color would exist in the Uttermost. Strangers watched him stare. They commented on his fixation. Could they not see what he was seeing? Did they not understand that there and then was it’s own distinct hue? He thought it was not as vibrant as it was in his Jerusalem. It was pale and quiet, yet still beautiful. A voice called out telling him he needed go. It was time for a new view.