Sunday, January 18, 2009

Outside night, inside lamplight

Last night as I was checking the doors to make sure they were locked and getting ready to go to bed, I stepped outside.

I was lured by the images all around me of the dark, feathery trees against a purplish-gray sky. My small camera didn't capture the awesome beauty, but my eyes appreciated the contrasts for a few moments. The trees created giant shadows in the sky. The cold temperatures of the last few days had softened, and I enjoyed a few moments of whispery silence as the wind made only the slightest noise through the evergreens.

Then, I turned to go back inside and was equally lured by the lamplight shining in the den.

I continued to photograph the call of the lights and small things that garnered my attention along the way. Books on the shelves, the wooden carving of Jesus that was my mother's, the light-switch plate that my children made from mosaics shortly after we moved to Jackson, the brass monkey that my husband gave his grandmother and was given back to him at her passing. . .

It was only a few passing minutes, but both the dark night and the inside lamplight beckoned me to pay attention-- to giant trees and the trinkets of my home.

Every moment of light and dark is a miracle. -- Walt Whitman

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