For our species, light meant life as our vision is only adapted for being diurnal. Everything about our existence was predicated on the light. It’s no wonder we find it so magical and you captured it so well. Thanks Elizabeth
I love all of this - especially the introduction - and I especially like leaf and roof-tile and banner for the lovely way they sound strung together like that!
Something nearly heraldic about that string of images, isn't there? (She said, looking back in bemusement on something she wrote and then re-read a thousand times.)
Thanks always for reading, Francesca. Wishing you health and continued joy, these autumn days.
Oh, wow, this is just amazing. I was sitting outside on Sunday morning and noticed how the sun had changed. It was lower in the sky, a more slanted light, more shadows.
Thank you for this poem of discernment, Elizabeth. The Englishman and I were talking just the other day about how the light and the landscape is so different from one side of Morecambe Bay or the other. He grew up on the west side and we live on the east side. We like to look from the east side to the west where he grew up. And that really makes all the difference even though it's the same bay. Anyhow, it's not the same as what you're writing about here, but it's what popped into my mind.
For our species, light meant life as our vision is only adapted for being diurnal. Everything about our existence was predicated on the light. It’s no wonder we find it so magical and you captured it so well. Thanks Elizabeth
What a wise and lovely reflection! Thanks back to you, Wes.
I love all of this - especially the introduction - and I especially like leaf and roof-tile and banner for the lovely way they sound strung together like that!
Something nearly heraldic about that string of images, isn't there? (She said, looking back in bemusement on something she wrote and then re-read a thousand times.)
Thanks always for reading, Francesca. Wishing you health and continued joy, these autumn days.
This beautiful time! I love how your poem patterns the light.
Thanks, Ann! I'm so glad it speaks to you.
Oh, wow, this is just amazing. I was sitting outside on Sunday morning and noticed how the sun had changed. It was lower in the sky, a more slanted light, more shadows.
It makes such a subtle, poignant difference, doesn't it? Thanks so much for reading, LeeAnn.
Beautiful words.
Beautiful, poignant light! Thanks always for reading, Simon.
I love how you capture changes in light.
Thank you, MK.
Thank you for this poem of discernment, Elizabeth. The Englishman and I were talking just the other day about how the light and the landscape is so different from one side of Morecambe Bay or the other. He grew up on the west side and we live on the east side. We like to look from the east side to the west where he grew up. And that really makes all the difference even though it's the same bay. Anyhow, it's not the same as what you're writing about here, but it's what popped into my mind.
Light is so mysterious, isn't it, even while it's so faithful. Love and light to you and the Englishman, Jeni.
Such a lovely way to begin this cool, autumn morning ... Thank you, Elizabeth. You are a treasure.
Autumn love and good wishes, Sulima! Thank you always for reading.