We (Beau and I) awaken to skies that would make an impressionist painter feel like dancing. Drifting clouds are backlit by the rising sun, and below them, flocks of Canada geese are singing in unison as they fly up from the river and out into farm fields to feed. This year's progeny sing loudest up there in the great blue bowl of morning. Their pleasure in being alive and aloft is contagious, and I watch them with a mug of tea, eyes shielded from the rising sun with a sleepy hand.
There are dazzling pools of sunlight in the garden, deep shaded alcoves of shadow under the trees that are several degrees cooler than the open spaces. Chiaroscuro mornings in July and August remind me of the artist Jean Parrish's words, that when she painted she tried to mirror the way light sculptures the earth, the way shadows fall. Oh yes, Nature (the Old Wild Mother) is the most fabulous artist of them all.
On an early morning walk, Beau and I paused by a neighbor's fish pond to watch the white and scarlet koi finning their way around in circles, and we noticed that the first fallen maple leaves of the season had already drifted into the pool, making eddies and swirls and perfect round spirals on the glossy surface. No need to panic, it's not an early autumn, just this summer's dry heat setting a few leaf people free to ramble.
If only I could actually paint skies as magnificent as these... I can't, and the camera will have to do, but what my lens "sees" is absolutely sumptuous, and I am content with my morning opus. Sky blue, rose, gold, violet and scarlet lodge in my wandering thoughts, and on the way home, I think about taking up pottery again, about throwing a bunch of clay bowls and glazing them in perfect sunrise colors. Emaho!
2 comments:
This is ever so lovely. Thank you, you painted a perfect picture with your words.
I truly love and savor these depictions of your ordinary life replete with beautiful, heartfelt ‘wayside sacraments’ ‘ There is infinitely more vitality and creativity in the drift of ordinary life.’ 🙏🏻♥️🧚
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