The air is clear and restorative. The blue sky defies description. In the wake of the incessant gray of the last three months, a look deep into it's unending blueness makes you feel like surely you can fly. Everything is exquisite in the light of it and it's one of those astounding February days that we Lower Mainlanders effusively describe while people from other provinces smile patiently and assume we've gone just a bit crazy in our rain-saturated heads.
When I woke up this morning, through my half-opened eyes I saw the rays of the blessed sun cast down on my coverlet and rather than beeline for my near-sacred morning coffee, instead - hypnotically - I was drawn to my bathroom, where the precious, life-bringing early morning rays first show themselves in our house. I took my clothes off, basking in these rays like an animal. A desperate animal with only a vague awareness of the primacy of instinct.
When I woke up this morning, through my half-opened eyes I saw the rays of the blessed sun cast down on my coverlet and rather than beeline for my near-sacred morning coffee, instead - hypnotically - I was drawn to my bathroom, where the precious, life-bringing early morning rays first show themselves in our house. I took my clothes off, basking in these rays like an animal. A desperate animal with only a vague awareness of the primacy of instinct.
I took these pictures moments ago. A beautiful friend, talented photographer and fellow-blogger just posted a serene shot of her living room today and the beauty of her enamel-ware housed tulips inspired me to do the same.
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