I am fascinated by the different qualities of light, and I always have been.

June morning light, like today. Golden, fresh, touching everything. Morning light is full of promise.

Summer evening light that caresses the hilltops and can lead to reflection or sadness.

Winter light, pale and soft.

Right now I love the muchness of the June light that spills over everything in the cool morning. The brightness of the sun rising in the east, low in the sky. The shadows thrown by every pebble and blade of grass. The quiet tourist town, nearly deserted, the shops closed. A pickup truck comes into town from the northeast. Maybe a local, someone who has a business to open later for the tourists who pack the sidewalks.

The dog and I amble, he to smell and me to look. Birds sing above me and always the rushing sound of the river. We walk slowly over the suspension bridge, stopping in the middle to look at the water rushing by underneath. 

Lord God, teach me how to see. Teach me how to look at Your creation.