Monday, August 1, 2011

Light

If I circle today's date on the calendar, I will need to write myself a note as to why.

For several weeks our mornings have been foggy or, as yesterday, clouded with what local weather gurus call monsoonal flow. It is tropical air with a penchant for turbulence that is pushed and pulled our way from Mexico thanks to a clockwise swirl of high pressure somewhere over, roughly, Colorado. Today the sky was clear.

What clarity brought was an awareness of the sun's shift. And an illumination that I would like to remember and, if I remember, track for no reason at all. Our simple interior geography features one window on the apartment's east end, a smallish slider in the bathroom wall. Today, at about 7:30, undimmed by pebbled glass since the window was open for breeze and sky, a band of sunlight spilled across the bathroom floor, ran the length of the hall, through the living room and up the west wall next to a bookcase. Now, a bit after 8, the band remains though its earlier brilliance is diluted.

We have lived here for more than nine years and somehow I never noticed this glowing phenomenon before. By paying attention for the next few days, assuming fog and clouds don't return, I can observe how long all the elements align to make this happen. I can be easily amused and light attracts me above most things, especially light that streaks all in its path with golden warmth.

To find newness where all was assumed to be the same, day upon day, makes me feel alert, aware. It is cheering to discover one's wits have not been so dulled that an electric swath of August sun across the carpet went unnoticed. I have no excuse for all those previous years.

Assume that one was waiting for the light, for a sign, a pointer, a path. There is now a circle on the calendar to say, wait no more. It is here.

10 comments:

Angella Lister said...

i can see that wave of light reaching into your house. it looks magical.

Radish King said...

Joyous.

Marylinn Kelly said...

Angella - That is how it felt. It may never appear in quite the same way again. I'm so glad I noticed. xo

Marylinn Kelly said...

Rebecca - Yes, it was and the best part, it seemed to dictate the post. I was only needed for the typing. xo

Antares Cryptos said...

Enjoying the "light".
Good to be back here.:)

Robert the Skeptic said...

It appears that you are experiencing your own personal "Anasazi Sun Dagger" just like the ancient inhabitants of Chaco Canyon.

Marylinn Kelly said...

Antares-Cryptos - Good to have you back. Hoping there will be more light than its opposite to share. :D

Marylinn Kelly said...

Robert - Thank you for directing me to the fascinating story. For anyone interested, here is one link that gives background and a first-hand account:http://www.angelfire.com/indie/anna_jones1/sundagger.html

I happily claim yesterday's event as my personal Anasazi Sun Dagger. As I had not really noticed it before, it felt significant.

Jayne said...

How beautiful! This makes me think of painters, especially those like Degas and Monet, who painted the same scenes at different times of the day, or at various angles, to capture the many moods that the lighting cast upon the subject.

To sit all day with degrees of light. Wonderful.

Marylinn Kelly said...

Jayne - Thank you. And light can be so literal or metaphoric, both essential to the art of seeing; what is hidden is revealed, objects recede or gain prominence. No wonder they decided to call it enlightenment. xo