Late Light Walk
It was almost 7 p.m. last night but the air was so fresh and still, so lit up from the inside, that I just had to pull over and walk through it.
Luckily, I was near a Reston path. So I laced up my spare tennis shoes and hit the trail.
I’ve just been reading Annie Dillard (more about her in a later post) and am sorely conscious of how beautifully light can be described. So let me just say that I felt as I was walking through a painting by Thomas Cole or other Hudson River School painter. I felt that the light was shimmering all around me, that it was bouncing off the trees and the darker shapes and illuminating them, too.
It wasn’t quite as dramatic as these photos (snapped, ironically enough, quite near the Hudson River, on the train trip home night before last) but it had some of this drama.
It was dark by the end of my walk, but that didn’t matter. I was all lit up inside.