Silk Light


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It is a lot less beautiful if it means an eternity in traffic.

It was nearly eight o’ clock before I found myself driving home for the day. It was the time of day when I would normally go running but my schedule wasn’t likely to allow for that today or tomorrow, which was a shame because I had the chance to go running yesterday and found that it helped ease my rising sense of anxiety towards the work lying ahead of me for the week. I recall passing the halfway mark on my route and thinking that I was feeling pretty good: relaxed, calm, like my body was soaking in a warm bath. It wasn’t so much a runner’s high as a runner’s leveling-out. The relief of not being under stress, even if it was just for half an hour, even if it only was happening because I was running, was a pleasure so profound that I got a little teary.

A lot of things have been making me a little teary lately. For a while I chalked it up to the pressure release from the last production, but it has been going on long enough now that I’m beginning to think that it might be more than that. Darned if I know what it is, though.

So I was driving home and it was nearly eight. On a clear day, I would have been driving with the burning rays of the setting sun blasting in my rearview mirror, but today there was a bank of clouds built up on the horizon and the sun had already sunk into the haze. The light had the strange diffuse quality of twilight yet was as bright and timeless as a cloudy afternoon. It was too dark for sunglasses but too light for headlights to be very useful. Every object seemed to be rendered in exquisite, crystal clear, shadowless detail. The light didn’t change during the whole drive home. It was as if the sunset was holding its breath. I thought that this must be what light was like in Eternity- shapeless, directionless, luminous and unchanging.

I made it home and went inside and didn’t think about the light anymore after that.

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~ by Gwydhar Gebien on July 6, 2015.

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