Tag: light

2025, time

day and night

etikser
the first light of day, a golden sunrise
like the flip side of a coin
nightfall delivers glorious moonlight

It’s an addiction. The craving to go outside and catch the first golden light of dawn. Hours later, it’s the last few minutes of a long day, and I have to convince my ocean-breeze-tangled self to go inside, to leave a perfectly executed moon shining on the waves, even as the timepiece on my hand tells me I should be in bed.

A last glimpse of moonlight and the irresistible grandeur of the ocean and I head inside, reluctantly. Careful to pull the curtains open in my room, caution against sleeping in and missing the first sunlight rising again, over the horizon.

It’s an addiction…the ocean. A fabulous, senseless, overpowering addiction.

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© etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.

2025, nature

constant

etikser

The first lustrous light of dawn,
Like the season’s first red rose to open,
Like the downbeat in your favorite song.
Worth the wait.
A pulse born to modulate.
A natural rhythm
we seize upon for the solace of what’s constant.

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© etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.

moonlight

on a warm summer’s evening . . . 1

etikser
an old photo of mine

It was the late end of the day. I was ready to go upstairs, and I was surrounded by darkness, as I’d expect, but for the far left quadrant of the kitchen curtain. It was luminous. Aglow.

A full moon? Somehow I’d missed the growing crescent in the night sky?  I don’t think anything has that late-night radiance but the moon. Clouds scatter, and nothing but the full moon reaches down so intensely, down past the distant heavens, past the treetops, ‘cross the window trim, and into my room. It’s like it was waiting there for me … a gentle, benevolent kind of lying- in-wait … a secret, a surprise.

The unremitting strength of spirit.

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On a warm summer’s evening … simple words … my favorite kind of words … packed with age-old nuance and memories. Is there a single one of us who doesn’t hold onto the image of a warm summer’s evening?
Credit:  The Gambler, performed by Kenny Rogers (1978), written by Don Schlitz.

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© Etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.
Please visit my other blog, Clover & Ivy, https://cloverandivy.wordpress.com.
I post mostly nature photos there.

2022

patterns

etikser

The pasty smell of drywall and paint…tell-tale leftovers from the morning’s work.

Sheer curtains scarcely move at the open window, not enough to call it a flutter. And the afternoon sun floats columns of dark and light about the architecture of the panes and the surface of a half-drawn shade. Plaids, squares, rectangles.

The air works a gentle song from the chimes outside. A soft musical chant. I hear children down the street, and a distant car engine. Repetitious drumming, the tap, tap, tap, of a small animal.

There’s covid and war and the contradiction of what should feel normal in spring. Reactions feel confused and hollow. Optimistic/pessimistic/oppressive. Unworthy of a sunny beginning-of-spring afternoon.

2021, morning, winter

light

etikser

The light shining bright in my eyes. On a morning that came with the bluest blue cloudless skies. It’s like the first cup of coffee you grab before the rest of the pot finishes brewing. It’s like a jump start. And the jolt makes you realize you’ve been sputtering. Gray skies have their place in winter, for sure. But day after day after day, the way it seemed, they leave the spirit almost spiritless. Like it’s tugging a load around. Like you’re always pushing yourself when you feel like leaving everything just where it is.

Well, in the bright light of a morning that came with the bluest blue cloudless skies, a fox came trotting across the yard. I’ve seen many foxes before, and they always seem to me like they have somewhere to go. But this guy wasn’t in a hurry, and I had time to take a close look. It was fluffier than others I’ve seen. Maybe they get a winter coat. And it definitely stopped in the middle of the yard to poke at the ground. As if it eyed some kind of breakfast hiding just under the surface of the hard frozen grass.

I think the fox is a beautiful animal, but up close and personal, they scare me just a little. From my window, though, it was a wonderful sight on the last Sunday of the year, on a cold morning that came with the bluest blue cloudless skies, and December’s unfiltered light shining bright. Shining in my eyes.

December 27, 2020