The Light That's Shared IV
“Look at how a single candle can both defy and define the darkness.” – Anne Frank
In 2020 in the early mornings when much of the world was locked in their own bubble, I noticed the first light one morning. It was so faint initially I almost miss it, but it seemed to draw me back each day. And each day, and it was the same and yet different. Whether just in my backyard or in a campground in the mountains, it light took its own time—slowly peeking through the leaves or around a stand of trees. Silently the light turned pink then mixed itself into lavender and orange and yellow—all without a palette or a paintbrush.
In 2020 in the early mornings when much of the world was locked in their own bubble, I noticed the first light one morning. It was so faint initially I almost miss it, but it seemed to draw me back each day. And each day, and it was the same and yet different. Whether just in my backyard or in a campground in the mountains, it light took its own time—slowly peeking through the leaves or around a stand of trees. Silently the light turned pink then mixed itself into lavender and orange and yellow—all without a palette or a paintbrush.