long gray day ~ shining sun

Today was a long gray day, overcast and, photographically speaking, a bit dreary. There was a storm brewing behind the mountains, pushing up and over them like a surfer's longed for ultimate wave, but the many photos I made of it fell flat unless viewed very, very large.

Toward the very end of the day, however, the sun peeped out from beneath the wall of clouds for about five minutes, and contrast with the shadow on the wall showed just how bright it was. It's about all I could do today, but it did serve to remind me of something. The lighting here isn't quite that golden light of the beginning or end of certain days that we all know and love so much ~ but what I've been wondering for a long time is whether that light is a clue toward something much greater:

What if this dreary day ~ or any kind of day ~ were like one's life?

What if childhood, the beginning of life ~ with its beauty and trust and openness and promise ~ were like that special early morning light at the beginning of day?

What if there's meant to be a correspondingly special light toward the close of life?

I'm not thinking, of course, of a regression, but of something more like a transfiguration ~ a sharing in and standing in and shining forth of another "golden light" of wisdom and purpose and fulfillment and love ~ a light that brings all we've known and been into beautiful clarity and focus, that brings forth from our depths a grateful, "YES!" that draws the embracing circle large and blesses all within.

In spite of the inadequacy of my comprehension and my words, I do hope and believe there's something to it. So, as a photographer friend of mine always finishes her notes, I wish us all

light and love