It won’t wait for you
There’s a thing that the light does here, in upstate New York, this time of year. It changes minute to minute, sometimes by the second, and I can never catch it. I run from window to window, breath catching — oh! — and dash outside to stand in it. I race around the yard, a fool with a phone, trying to capture what is happening to my brain.
It doesn’t work. The camera in my pocket can’t catch the light. I can’t catch it to keep. There’s something tactile about it, the chill air, a certain expansive uplift that invites you in. And then, it’s…