Weekend blade light cuts through clouds. The autumn fluorescence flickers on and off as the drift casts over, like a bulb dragging the last sparks from a filament.
There is a melancholy beauty to the morning in this play of light and shade; overhead looms grey disaster, but towards the horizon stretches Elysium vistas. Along the borders can be seen beige and pinks as the light kaleidoscopes the colours and reveals the hidden hues.
There is a brittleness to the palette, as if you could snap out parts of the landscape, or crack it like the shell of an egg to reveal...? Well that's the question I guess? The morning began with a reminder of mortality, of fallibility, an opportunity to dwell on the disappointments I have caused, and the mistakes I have made. This was the cloud that followed me on leaving the house, my very own Tex Avery cartoon of despair. Yet walking uphill towards the Disney panorama, and aided by some Looney Toon texts, the cloud released and floated up to the continents above.
The autumn morning sky is bluer up by the clouds. Up there are deep blues, oceanic waves and the depths that take us to the crest of space - new discoveries, new thinking and maybe even new worlds. This is the realm of speculation and exploration; impulses that jolt us into action, and cause us to overcome our inner demons. Here is the reminder that we cannot remain under the cloud, but must work to outstrip it.
Nearer the horizon light explodes, clouds are given a renaissance coating, and the blues are drowned by yellows and whites. Here are dreams, sculpted from the merest wisp of lambs wool and the whispering of light. They await, calling to us edging each foot in front of the other along the journey from out of the shade. These are the solace that comfort our hopes and insulate our days from disappointments and set backs.
Mistakes as they say, were made, but self recrimination or worse flagellation will not correct nor erase them. I acknowledge them as part of me, a spur, if you like, to make of myself what I can and should; to be myself fully for me and for others. I flick the switch.