Thursday, April 24, 2014
This morning as I drove over the north shoulder of Mount Tabor, I was enjoying the delicate beauty of the early Spring morning -- so much lovelier than a brilliantly lit blue-and-gold day, when all the details disappear in a blurry cloud of yellow. The sky was a pale shade of grey, the trees were that impossibly bright crisp new-Spring green, and all the grass and flowers versions of it in multiple shades. The touches of color, lavishly applied here and there -- salmon pink, lemon yellow, ruby red. And it all seemed more sharply lit because of the reflecting drops of water on everything. The pavement was wet, the tarmac, the leaves of every tree and bush, the edges of the house roofs -- it was a thing of beauty, although not, alas, a joy forever. But certainly a joy for me!