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.

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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.


 

She is more than water. She is my bright-water love.

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