April 5, 2017
Sunset Photograph by Heather Akers
The sun’s disc slips below the line of the horizon. We don’t always notice light. It illuminates the newspaper before us at breakfast, flickers in the fluorescent bulbs in the building where we work, flings a bare beam a few car-lengths ahead of us as we speed down the highway at night. True light is plain. It is all the other colors blended together until their individual qualities become invisible. However, when the light leaves, or goes through objects or smog or dirt, it breaks into its constituent parts. Things become more difficult to see, but the limited light itself is easier to appreciate for its nuance. We have to look harder. The colors reemerge, separate, take their various places again. Light’s very absence shows us something new.