It’s an exceptionally beautiful day…
And I wanted to share this winter wonderland.
There is a wet, icy snow clinging to everything…
And the sky was so blue.
And every path looked like an adventure.
Sometimes the light amazes me.
The light this morning on campus was so breathtaking.
The light can make anything beautiful.
Especially this little tree.
These old elms, with their bare limbs above the path, like dancers…
My bike is safe and warm at home. I bet these guys are jealous!
But we all have different ways of carrying our burdens don’t we?
Some of us bow our heads…
Even my lovely hemlocks share the burden…
A flood as the day releases
and the whole snow world
is neither wet nor deep, but primary.
Colour so inherent, it does not fall
but rises from my skin,
the snow, the trees, the road.
This blue isn’t built or grown.
It has no tissue, nothing
to touch or taste or bring to mind
a memory, no iris or artery,
no gentian, aconite or anemone,
no slate, plum, oil-spill or gun,
no titanium or turquoise,
no mercury or magnesium,
no phosphorus, sapphire or silver foil,
no duck egg or milk jug,
no chambray, denim or navy,
no indigo, octopus ink, no ink,
no element. The blue moment,
sininen hetki in a language that claims
no relation but greets in passïng
picture blue, cyan. Ultraviolet
twilight, higher than the heaven
of swimming or flying – no splash.
A time without clouded objects,
in which you might become the glass
you swallowed through cold.
Light draws back
behind the rim of the eye as it closes.
I keep my distance, as things turn blue
through stillness and distance,
as everything blue is distant.
- Lavinia Greenlaw