exploring life in all its variety

February 28, 2007

Metamorphosis

There’s a quality of light just after a rain, when the sun first shines through gray and turns every green thing several shades brighter. The birds are subdued, but sound hopeful. The light sparkles in drops of water suspended on pine needles. It dims, then grows, in a pulsing kind of dance, from gray to green to gray again. Cars take on a different sound, driving a little faster, tires stirring up the water as it drains away.

It’s a liminal time, like dusk or dawn, or the beginning or end of the world. We stand inside the metamorphosis. Wet to dry, dry to wet. A moment suspended in time. Peace, for just a second, while the future resolves itself and prepares to unfold. More rain? Or not? Then a patch of blue appears.

File: — Barbara @ 3:05 pm PST, 02/28/07

3 Comments

  1. Marion says:

    My Gosh, Barbara…this piece of beautiful writing brought tears to my eyes.

    You painted a picture for me, with such seeming ease. I have witnessed this light that you described so well many times.

    I love the feel, the smell, the light in this “liminal time”.

  2. Turtleheart says:

    I love, love, love that time. Its one of those “between the worlds” moments for me, the same as at dusk. And you captured it so perfectly.

  3. Barbara says:

    Marion, Turtleheart — I’m so pleased it spoke to you.


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