Welcome autumn equinox 2012.
The sky this morning was breathtaking, stimulating, awe-inspiring. Yeah, all of those. It was crazy beautiful. I’d raised the shade beside the bed before turning in last night, thinking maybe I’d get lucky and would wake at 2 a.m. to the northern lights. As usual, I slept like a babe and didn’t wake up until dawn’s early light. And what a light it was. It got me up four times to awe and ooh over, take videos panning the yard and, finally, just this one single photograph that proves my claim that winter light, air, universe in the arctic is VIOLET. That’s right, the air is purple. The snow is purple. Mountains and sky are purple. But that’s winter and this, obviously, is still autumn and full of color, a beautiful golden orange blaze of color. Heck of a thing to wake up to, and very hard to take if you want to go back to sleep.
The light wasn’t quite as spectacular this afternoon when I captured Camo Cat hoping the birds wouldn’t notice she was in their favorite feeding spot.
My daughter acquired her while attending college, and named her Frida. She’d never been outside until coming here, and it took only a day for her to become fully an outdoor cat, enthralled by ants and bees, breezes rippling through the grass, and gravel. Frida loves gravel, squirming and rolling and stretching out in the sun on the bumply rocks where she’s met for her daily belly scratch and cat massage. She’s spoiled, and completely unaware that her very presence foils her intent. Entertained, we suffer her mock attacks on furry boots, dust bunnies, and the unfortunate fly buzzing the windows.
I too am spoiled in this place, full of beauty, full of simplicity. I almost feel boastful, guilty, for posting the view out my window. To me it’s never plain, never dull, never the same. Life as I know it, on my terms, in my language.