When the sky is cloudless, the sun begins to peek above the tree line and lights the sculpted monochromatic red-brown forms as if they were candles. They glow with fire. A strand of spiderweb makes itself known only by razor-edged silver reflection.
Camera in hand, I always am drawn toward such feats of light.
Sometimes an entire city turns gold in the rising sun. A full moon can turn a clear block of ice into silver or gold, or hover like a ghostly galleon in a tumult of waves rendered in cumulus clouds. Just a hint of sunlight can turn water into shimmery rose, or sort gray air into a rainbow. At high noon, flowers seem to be posing in a professional studio, casting everything beyond them into an illusion of pure black.
The most amazing tricks of light do not arise from the interloping sun or moon, but seem to emerge from within: impossibly dazzling, unwavering beacons even in a deluge of rain.
Love in the Spaces 