July 25, 2015
(This is part of a 365 project during my 70th year where I write and illustrate a blog on each day’s gift.)
I don’t need to look at the calendar to know the days are growing shorter. I can see the setting sun’s path alter in relation to the surrounding oak trees and the passage of time. The end of the day is my favorite time because I sense a magic. I love the way the angled sunlight throws shadows and accentuates textures. Some things that I miss seeing in the direct overhead sun suddenly stand out at the end of the day. And sometimes, it is what I do that reveals what was previously invisible.
Early evening, I watered the seeded bare patches in the yard and the thirsty plants. Soon I began to notice that in spreading shrubs and King George heather I had planted, diamonds had suddenly appeared. These were not the precious hard stones formed of carbon, but temporary, transient, sparkling water drops clinging to spider webs. The webs were not the mathematically balanced and beautiful orb webs that photographers love to capture, but the tangled variety that seems to have no pattern but do a good job of catching meals for their spiders. The droplets of water resulting from my hose sprinkling sparkled in these webs like diamonds in the setting sun.
As I aimed my camera lens, the ones in focus shone as sparkling diamond orbs and the out-of-focus highlights became heptagon rainbows. Tomorrow morning these diamonds and rainbows will not be there, but I am grateful for what I saw today.
My gift today is tiny diamonds and rainbows.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~You can find links to my other posts on this project here: