Light on Water
I walk when the time is right, when the writing and the chores are done. I don't always consider the quality of the light.
Maybe I should.
Yesterday, Copper and I made our way through the woods as the sun slanted low through the oaks, glanced at their roots and spotlit the creek. The water shimmered in response, gave up its secrets, its depth, its hurry.
The light was a laser pointer teaching the landscape. Look here, it told me, here are sights you should not miss.
Maybe I should.
Yesterday, Copper and I made our way through the woods as the sun slanted low through the oaks, glanced at their roots and spotlit the creek. The water shimmered in response, gave up its secrets, its depth, its hurry.
The light was a laser pointer teaching the landscape. Look here, it told me, here are sights you should not miss.
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