The Luminous Night

The moon has passed obscure, exposed for but a few seconds now and then, the cloud cover holding firm as a gray dome to make the night a pantheon vast as the dripping forest. The rain has ceased. By the pale moonlight scattered through the translucent, starless sky, I see the strew of yellow leaves brocading the dark lawn, the filigree of newly-bared branches, the mere asphalt now like the sheen of a black lake reflecting both sky and the blurred shapes of the surrounding trees. I can make out each familiar form along the street. Were I a stranger here, I might be puzzled by these sights, but memory fills the gaps and reveals the details hidden in the dimness.

The quivering pines continue to hum with the persistent wind. Their sound is like the light; countless vibrations dispersed through the air, so that they are everywhere and nowhere, enveloping me as my thoughts reach out to envelop the forest, the freshened streams that rush glimmering seaward, the dew-sprinkled meadows scanned by bright-eyed grazing deer, the sleeping birds huddled in warm nests, the burgeoning fungi adding their dank scent to the odor emitted by fallen trees returning to the soil. I envision it all as the night reveals it with this pervasive glow of cloud-powdered moonlight.

Sunlight!

Though the sky retains a stormy look, the north a slate backdrop for nearly denuded oaks, the south is a blue expanse studded with cumulus castles, turrets shining white in the afternoon sun. The brightness actually woke me before two o'clock! A few minutes ago, I went out and saw an astonishing light in the treetops to the north, but by the time I returned from fetching the camera it had gone. That camera (and my limited skills) probably wouldn't have been up to capturing it, anyway. But the exposed branches of the oaks decorated by a remaining handful of reddish-brown leaves made redder by the low rays of the declining sun, and the green and reddish-gold of the autumn pines, all seen against that mass of burnished gray sky would have made a splendid picture. I am going to go back out now to enjoy the remainder of the daylight and the crisp air. Maybe there will be a sunset worth remembering.

Parting Shot from the Storm

Sunset was preempted by a sudden squall. The clouds massed and turned afternoon to premature twilight. Wind arose and sent a shower of leaves flocking from the mulberry tree where they were battered in midair by bursts of hailstones. Then the rain poured down furiously as though the retreating storm would empty every remaining drop of its water in one burst. By full nightfall, the clouds had utterly vanished and stars appeared in the cobalt sky, and the bright moon rose to spill its white light across the sparkling ground. It has grown very cold once again, and the chill is exacerbated by the lingering damp. Though the solstice remains two weeks away, it feels like winter tonight.