I’ve touched on this often in my posts, those twenty-seven moves in thirty-five years as a military spouse. Those moves affected so many parts of my life.
All of those addresses and not once did I really have much of a choice of the house I lived in. We rented the houses, or were issued them. Only once did we buy and my husband found and bought the house when I was still in South Dakota with sons in school and he was already in Virginia.
But this time, this first retirement home….this home I got to choose.
Here’s the reason I fell in love with it.
This is where the light first slips in, as the sun rises behind the house.
Making it’s appearance through generous windows the rest of the morning.
Light creates shadow as it passes through a solid object and effortlessly transforms an ordinary place.
I’ve recently started listening to classical music when I walk my Lab. The two of us log a lot of miles in the course of a week, traversing over and over, the same two or three routes on the military base we live on. The repetition can cause a person to stop “seeing” but a burst of sunlit days after a very gray December and the addition of the notes as they tumble about in my head, have made my wanderings seem new. I’m seeing with different eyes and observing with an adjusted attitude. There’s less noise in my head, certainly fewer words.
Come, walk with me into this world of shadow, light and music…..and feel the change.
Porcelain performed by Helen Jane Long.
Windows and light do beautiful things together.
Just after taking the previous photographs I happened upon the following scene.
….my son and his wife, sharing a moment on the couch, looking at their new daughter.
Now this, THIS, is the perfect window and I was in the right place at the right time.
Looks like another God wink to me.
I read this week’s weekly photo challenge and then immediately dismissed it. My uncle had just died and I was planning my trip and then traveling home.
It wasn’t until this evening that I’ve gone back to look at the images I took this week to see if perhaps light became an unintentional theme.
These are the images I found.
This taken from the window of the craft room/studio space on the third floor in my new home as the sun was rising.
One taken of a beautiful chandelier in the hotel I stayed in on my way back to Ohio.
And this, taken at the church, the morning of the funeral. The candles we light for special intentions.
Light sources….one natural, one man-made, and one….a light, rooted in our faith, that is kindled when we’re walking by faith and not by sight.
I’ve used up a lot of words in other venues this week so I’ll write just a few here, deferring to the images instead.
Light transforms ordinary objects as it passes through and casts shadows.
A single line on its own is one thing, in repetition it draws my eye.
The everyday becomes special and the way I see my world is changed.
Taking pictures is a huge part of my life so it makes sense that I’m obsessed with light. At any given time I’m aware of the light around me and how it transforms the space it touches. I photograph a lot of shadows but how many times do I photograph the light itself? Not very often….I’m more interested in capturing the way in which it changes a space. The way it illuminates.
The word illumination somehow carries a lot more weight than the word light. It implies an upgrade. It takes on added responsibility. When something is illuminated it is revealed. A dark corner or a plain wall becomes a canvas. The space underneath a table on the sidewalk becomes more than just concrete. Light has passed through something and altered the scene.
As I walk through my life I consciously try capture those fleeting moments of illumination.
When I looked up illumination in the dictionary this morning this was my favorite line:
“the luminous flux per unit area on an intercepting surface at any given point”
What I like about this definition is how scientific it is. What I like about the following images of illumination that I’ve captured with my camera is that they are anything but scientific. They are all about the beautiful ways in which my world is illuminated at any given moment.
Not surprisingly, I’m a big fan of what photographers refer to as the “magic hour.” That time of day when the light is, well, luminous. Shadows are long, the day is on pause before night falls, we are in-between.
Light can illuminate and the sum becomes so much more than all the parts on their own.
May all of our lives be just a bit more illuminated today than they were yesterday.