...or tries to...

Friday, October 7, 2011

Mornings


What would you miss most, if everything was taken away from you? I'm not talking about people you love, that's the first clear and obvious answer. What would you miss seeing, or being part of? I would miss morning, those first stabs of light, the theatrical glow right after, the shadows, the earliest suggestions of a day that could be ordinary or extraordinary, or even terrible. In the first minutes, it all points toward extraordinary.









7 comments:

Daydreamer said...

Me too, Amy. Me Too!
There is something about the sideways beams of light that reach farther into the house than usual.... light up otherwise ignored items... cast Perfect image shadows... halo the cat fur....
That new, fresh, infinite potential of the beginning of a day....
Your pictures say it all! And I am in complete agreement... I resent the mornings that I oversleep and miss the earliest light....!
That and Twilight... which of course, has an entirely different feel...

SyBee and TheoTheCat said...

I'm always greatly moved or filled with an ample joy and delight when I read your words and go in your world in each new post. I follow you since more than one year now, both Flickr and blog, and I have spoken to you only a little on your Flickr gallery…
…especially greatly moved when you speak of your father because I feel a special connection : I lost my father just in the same time you lost yours (6 days after precisely) and maybe the same way (sudden death) and I inherit so much passions from my father, the same like you.
You were the first one of the new persons I discover when I came back again a few weeks later in April on Flickr. Something like a sign. And I deeply feel in osmose with your art for multiple reasons.
Strangely, I couln't speak about that before but after your post of last sunday I feel something like under an obligation to tell you. I only have time to do it today so that's the reason because it's here.
Hope you understand what I mean between the lines because it's a little hard for me to speak in an other langage which I don't master as well as mine. Words are my land but in French !
This friday morning, you know, the first thing I have done was to take my camera and make a few photos of the cats in the first light of rising sun because this light was just marvellous in the house ! You know, you know…
SyBee

Sandy said...

You always seem to find the words for feelings I have, but don't know how to express!

I love the mornings in my house too. The lovely sunlight and shadows - your pictures captured the look and feel of my own home.

Wonderful writing, Amy!

Sandy said...

I love reading your musings, and seeing the photos that accompany them.

At times, you manage to express my own feelings. The ones I don't know how to put into words.

I love how my house looks in the mornings, too - those lovely, long rays of sunlight - it's my favorite time of day. And the caffeine doesn't hurt, either.

Amy said...

Betsy, you are a poet, your comments and your own musings and stories on your blog are so beautifully expressed-you help make this little corner of the world so alive! I too hate to oversleep. I feel like everything has started before me, something I won't be able to find, a bit like those dreams we sometimes have-the ones where we need to get somewhere but keep getting lost, or distracted, or can't open our eyes. I miss twilight most of the time, working-I look up at the window and it's already dark. But I love the twilights I remember from my New York life-the long blue shadows, the clouds of gnats whirling in the low sunlight, that long insect note that played like a violin. I'll bet your twilights are like the ones I miss.

Sybee-I'm so so happy you wrote, and your comment moved me so. I completely understand. I wish I could write back to you in French, I studied it for 4 years but here in the U.S. they wait until you're a teenager to teach you, and by then I was so terrible at languages. I can name things, but I'm awful at full sentences. I think you write beautifully in English.

Thank you so much for speaking about your Dad-we were dealing with the same loss at exactly the same time. Every day that goes by I understand my Dad a little more, and realize what he really meant to my life, what gifts he gave, without asking for very much in return. Don't you find that losing our father's so suddenly makes you see the smallest moments so much clearer? That it's all a gift, even when it doesn't feel like one?

Hi Sandy! I know for sure that you understand the beauty in the ever-changing light, the way it turns our objects and arrangements into still-lifes. Getting to know your beautiful home helped me see that. When I think of perfect light I think of your sunporch-how crystal clear it is, like sunlight held still in glass. Morning through all your wonderful trees must be gorgeous in person.

Sans! said...

I have often wondered why dawn and dusk evoke an exhilaration I don't normally feel at other hours.( Over here, we enjoy both at 7 o'clock. That's why it's my favourite time.)

Your post cleared part of this mystery for me.

Thank you, Amy, for always translating our feelings so accurately with no better words and the perfect pictures.

Amy said...

Thank you, Sans for writing so beautifully. Have you ever woken up before sunrise, on those few days a month when the moon lights the sky just before the sun comes up? Best of both times...