dancing with the sun

 Last Wednesday, as I was preparing to do my reading for class, I decided to read in bed, as one does. My bed is one of my favorite places in the whole world, because I have nature in all directions. To my left are three windows where sunlight streams in, and I spend time watching my own little natural oasis of vine, tree, and shrub flicker and dance in the wind. When the windows are closed, I have my domestic plants directly in front of me to gaze at lovingly. As you can see from the picture, my little tree, succulents, and ferns are all popping into sight to say hello, reaching to wave at me over my fort of blankets made from bent knees. 

I opened the blinds slightly on Wednesday, and had the light off in my room while I read, so the sunlight came in on slants. It was warm, like on a hot summer day when you feel your forearm tanning through the glass windows of your car while you drive. I found my skin missing the light every time it disappeared, for I would feel it leave through incremental coolness on my previously warmed arm before I saw the difference with my eyes. Every time the light dimmed, I could feel it changing its mind, deciding which particular words and phrases it would illuminate next, so much so that the words were lifted off the page with sheer brightness, and which it would leave in the dark, only to be read if I strained my eyes. The light would think often, offering suggestions on which parts were especially important to read, and which parts were simply minutiae, cyclically leaving me contently distracted. Quite possibly, the light was purposeful in its distraction, chilling my skin and darkening my view on the page as a call out to leave the book, leave my bed, and look out the window until I simply had to bask fully in the sun like a snake on a rock in the desert. 

Sunlight and I are in a continual dance, one where you can't tear your eyes away from your partner for you know they are perennially fleeting. There is personification to be found in all elements of nature, and that is part of the joy of this class--to form a personal relationship with every aspect of what the earth has to offer us.