Nagoonberry

This world. This place. This life.

The light is beautiful

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lightThe light is beautiful, glinting off the high wing of a small plane disappearing into the sunset on this clear winter day.

The light is beautiful, pinking the sky, glittering every frosty branch.

The light is beautiful, and in a shadowed world, I like writing about the light.

But I know that airplane.

I know its owner purchased it foolishly.
I know he makes poor choices about its maintenance.
I know I wince when I see it overhead.

And knowing takes some of the shine out of the light.

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