Friday, September 19, 2008

Sunshine & pumpkins

Why can't humans look directly into the sun? I guess I mean why can't my delicate retinas tolerate the most sunning mountain sunset in Vermont as I attempt to drive west to Albany? Maybe its so I could be forced to stop at a farm stand to stroll around the signs of autumn and really notice the depths of orange sunlight on an orange pumpkin skin. Or to see shafts of dusty air illuminated through rows of hanging flowers. Or to force me to stop and appreciate the taste of the air today, the calling of my sweater in my backseat.

I find myself fascinated with sunsets and rises because of the fleeting alternative views on the world. Suddenly, and only for a moment the shadows and glow draw your attention to the most mundane and ignorable things, the rays transforming them into radiant beautiful objects. The dirty windshield of an old truck. A dead sunflower. A piece of wood, a row of grass. 

I feel like its a secret because only I am standing in front of these objects at the right minute as they are elevated to beauty and elegance. I frequently photograph scenes like this because I may never see the same combination of angle and timing of the earth's tilt as I am sure that if I returned tomorrow it wouldn't be the same. 

So stopping in exasperation as the setting sun overwhelmed my rods and cones afforded me a unique opportunity to see something no one will ever see again in quite the same way. I'm glad.

No comments: