Late Spring Sun
January 20, 2016 § Leave a comment
She is warmth and sunlight and the bright wet chaos of spring blooming into summer.
She belongs to the in-between and to beginnings: the time when morning warms towards noon, the threshold of summer, the dawn of adulthood when child-wonder is still a vibrant memory. For her, though, it is more than a memory: she embodies it, she is a creature of wonder and joy matured into self-awareness, laughter bubbling through aspen leaves, sunlight sparkling off dewdrops.
It is as if she contains a piece of the sun within her, as if the sunbeams Raven once stole have been cached in a dancing human form. You can see the subconscious recognition of this in everyone she passes: people orient to her like flowers to the morning light, drinking in the warmth.
She is the spring thaw, bright sunlight on running water, the babbling mountain brook overflowing its banks. She is warming water, playful, laughing, bringing life-renewing water to the lowlands. She is the warmth on the snow, melting it into a torrent of rushing water, churning up stagnation and silt, wakening the green things sleeping in the ground. She is a flash flood and a blinding sunglare on water and snow; it’ll strain your eyes to stare at her brightness overlong, elfshot, shine-struck. And she is the welcome sunwarmth after the long winter, and the laughter of water over stone.