Driving home I see that the light is pouring from the sky , as though an angel is tipping a jar of sunshine straight onto my mountains. (And really whose to say there isn't?)
And while I know it is impossible, I hold my breath and hope that the light holds, that I can show you this miraculous beauty on what is an otherwise ordinary day. Rounding the corner home I see that the fingers of light have disappeared. But still . . . I leave the car in the drive way and run inside for my camera and a ladder. Laughing to myself I climb the ladder, and look - it's still beautiful, still worth capturing.
I wish you were here. We could drink tea and eat chocolate biscuits while we watched the light fade on the hills, while we talked about life, while the earth spun, while we lived.
