Thursday, February 15, 2007

"Morning light, Florida," February 2006

The morning was as warm as it looks. The blinds were drawn to within two feet of the floor on this floor-to-ceiling window, and as I knelt to pack my bag for the flight home, I noticed the light coming through the leaves on the plant. They weren't even necessarily that pink, but they came across that way at this time of day. It was among the last photos I took on that trip, getting in a few more shots before the drive to the airport and a few hours confined to the plane. It's one of those shots that, to me, doesn't show anything of note, yet I still remember the mood and the feeling of that morning.

It's been nearly a month since I've taken the camera out and captured anything fresh, and I'm growing restless, itching to do so again. Today would've been perfect had I had more time when I headed down by my parents, where they got more ice than we did and the trees were encased in ice and glistened in the sun as if they were glass. With the light at the right angle, the trees twinkled as if strung with lights at Christmas. Gorgeous.