08 November 2010

light and space.



I drive through neighborhoods of houses that are so big I wonder if they house the von trapp family. I drive through neighborhoods with gated entrances that give way to circular driveways. I drive through houses that look like castles but are really only part-time homes for diplomats or politicians. I drive until the houses give way to the natural world I am winding through roads that are lined with trees the color of fire and light. the sun is setting and I am blinded by the light that will soon turn to dusk and then to darkness. the leaves grasp unto the branches that have been their home and then finally give up, falling down to earth, spiraling and floating as they try to decide where to land. they fall like confetti out of the cards my grandmother used to send me for birthdays and just to say hello. the weather is quickly turning cold, but I roll my window down. crisp air hits my face and I feel my cheeks turn pink. the album leaf plays soft and slow, willing me to slow down and remember that even in the midst of the busiest place in america, there can always be moments of light and stillness and peace.

I drive under the canopy of trees and try to catch a leaf as it floats down. they rejoice in the crisp air just as much as I do. my car creeps up a hill, trying to keep up with the sun that is setting quickly. up. up. up I go like a roller coaster that continues its ascent long after you are sure is safe. I reach the top of hill and for a split second I am convinced that I will not stop going. that I will simply keep moving through the sky and into the clouds. for that fleeting moment at the top of that hill all I see is light and space. and then I dip back down and my stomach lunges a bit trying to stay in the light - where it knows it cannot. I am covered in dusk and shadow. but the shadow only reminds me of the sunlight. and I do not forget the light and stillness and peace.

1 comment:

Jyndia said...

Love it! Thanks for the vivid journey into your life!