Luminous But Not Clear: Sunrise on the Lily Pond

"At sunrise everything is luminous but not clear. It is those we live with and love and should know who elude us. You can love completely without complete understanding." - Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It

If you read yesterday's blip, which was full of excitement about the thawing of the lily pond at the Arboretum, you will not be at all surprised to hear that I went right back there the very next morning!

There was no fresh snow this time - so no white lace enchantment. And the clouds fought back the sun in a grand celestial battle that took place well above my head. So I have no shots of perfect morning light to share for this day.

However, I still found plenty to engage my imagination, as the reflections of that celestial battle were fine to watch, indeed. Lights and shadows. The golden shine of the sun, when it came. The blue-black clouds fighting back. No smooth, glassy surface on this day either: the shimmer of wind on water made the images shift and move.

When I reviewed the pictures I had taken, I was reminded of a phrase from a favorite book by Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It. The phrase is "luminous but not clear," which exactly describes this sunrise. Full of light and complexity, the shine ever more precious to me because of the battle it took to get there. But not clear. No, not clear at all.

Life can be like that, too. Full of darkness and light, pattern and confusion, stillness and motion. Not all of which makes sense. Nor does it need to. I do not need to see clearly, or understand completely, to love well. Always choose love.

A song to accompany this picture: the rock band Europe sings Lights and Shadows.

P.S. Thank you so much for the wonderful, enthusiastic comments and favorites for yesterday's blip! Thank you, all. I am grateful.