| Five O'Clock Sun |
[Jun. 18th, 2005|05:18 pm]
rejectomorph
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A glow begins to emerge, one patch of the tumbling gray sky turning white. There is a sudden streak of blue, which slowly expands, and then the sun is revealed. The world, which all afternoon had been shadowless, fills with contrasts. Light flickers from breeze-rustled leaves, flowers leap from green shade to flaunt their bright color, and dark pickets appear on the ground east of fences. The west fronts of houses grow less flat as eaves and molding etch them with shady lines. Lawns are dappled with fluttering patterns of trees. The air remains cool, but the sunlight is summer warm. More swaths of bare sky appear, and the masses of cloud show blinding white flanks, while their gray undersides take on a bluish hue. A hawk appears overhead, flying at treetop height, and glides on the thermal rising from the rapidly warming pavement. My cat emerges from some secret napping place, scampers across the lawn to scratch the trunk of the mulberry tree, then rolls a few times in a warming patch of bare dirt in a flower bed. I hear a thrush singing. Sunlight is always best when it surprises. |
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