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Modified 12-Dec-20
Created 9-Dec-20
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Catching a glimpse out the window, I grab my camera and step outside. Still inspired by last night’s reading*, I catch my breath in wonder: pink clouds dance above the summit of Windy Hill, a field of light. Still in the Earth’s shadow, the hilltop waits: open, expectant.
The clouds move, reform, and billow. Their colors shift from pink towards orange. Look! Sunshine touches Skyline – a sliver of daylight arrows toward the expectant hilltop. Then sunlight arrives: dawn on Windy Hill.
Silence reigns. The early questioning of the owl has long since faded; the raucous challenges from crow and raven are hushed. No breath of air stirs the treetops. We all silently bathe in the gift of light, a new day spreading from sky to clouds, from hilltop down into our quiet valley. Welcome!
*Last night I read a little more of my brother Steve’s interview with photographer John Wimberly: Gestures to the Spirit: Photography and Beyond. Yes, inspiring.