“Darkness is your candle. Your boundaries are your quest.”
The window here faces East. In the morning on sunny days the light is glorious. Today was rainy in the morning (and cold!). On the walk to school my kids said they hoped it would “cheer up”—and indeed it did. Clear up and cheer up both.
By mid-afternoon, it’s fairly dark in this room, even on a rainy-turned-sunny spring day like today, and by 8 or so, there’s very little natural light that makes its way into the room even though it’s clearly out there, just facing the wrong way to get in. [see pic]
I know the light is glorious at that moment for those facing the other way, watching the pink skies over Jersey. It bothers some people, who visit and complain about what a dark (and depressing? they seem to suggest) apartment it can be. I don’t mind it. We have a little something invented in the late 19th century that keeps things bright (electricity), or candles if you don’t need enough light to read or write by. Plus, I also find it quite nice sometimes to just allow the dark, to try to accept the lack of light with the same feeling I will accept (embrace that is) the sun streaming in when the next day begins.
Every now and then there is this trick that happens where the light facing East reflects off some of the windows across the way from us and radiates back, imitating the morning light and illuminating the room. The light is only a reflection, but in the cathedral hour, it feels just like the real thing.