Heavy into Light

Shelter Cove light house

 “I cannot cause light; the most I can do is try to put myself in the path of its beam. It is possible, in deep space, to sail on solar wind. Light, be it particle or wave, has force: you can rig a giant sail and go. The secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind. Hone and spread your spirit till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff”  Annie Dillard


Annie Dillard is one of the most elegant writers I know of things natural. When I first read her books, I was pretty discouraged about my own writing; we looked at the same world, experienced the same feelings, yet she wrote from this compelling microscopic viewpoint while I continued along, blithely driving my bulldozer into the word sea. I finally came to accept a world of words that contained both the room and the need for the Anna Pavlova's right next to the Mike Mulligan's with our steam shovels.

Yesterday, these were some of the sights I saw while sailing in the light.

While waiting for my turn at the gas station, this horse kept grinning at me. Really.

This might be considered more of a supercilious smirk, as if knowing I'd be telling horse grinning stories and not be believed. Even worse, Pipi was sending it to the big island yesterday, so I have no live backup of an albino, teeth-bared grinning, smirking horse. Which is why I take pictures.

Spotter fishing crew

Chiquitine and his crew, coming up to Dinghy Dock

Do we have to stay in the boat, Dad? Do we? Do we? Will we?

Fall is for the color orange! And for smiling! And, around here, for drinking beer, in shorts. No, the little one was not drinking beer.

The rain was finished, work was done (thank you, bread buyers!), some good friends from St. Thomas had sailed over, life is good in the light.

Have a shimmering Saturday! Do something to be savored.