I was able to capture some of the light, but neither the color nor the movement in this ephemeral vertical image–one that inescapably calls to my mind another vision of flora against water: a beach bouquet whose fleeting presence still soothes my heart.
In fact, the dancing ferns and layers of shimmering liquid, cast upon a wall the color of spun gold, did not exist (any more–and quite possibly less–than @InvisibleObama occupied that notorious chair).
The sun was just beginning to set. It struck an old, uneven pane of glass in front of which ferns swayed in a summer seacoast breeze. And for moments I could see in front of me a shimmering work of art that was not there.