It’s convenient and fortunate when this prompt coincides with a recent road trip. It wasn’t a long trip. About three hours from our house to Tom and Ellin’s place in Connecticut and an easy drive. Only one city to cross — Hartford — and that’s usually easy unless you get there exactly at rush hour. We didn’t and it was a smooth way down.
Lots of talking and hanging about. Some good, old-fashioned table-thumping ranting — a good way to let off some steam. And Garry discovered the miracle that is virtual reality. You’d think I’d love virtual reality because I love amusement parks and rides, but for me that experience is shared. It’s not a “me with me” experience. It’s doing it then being able to talk about it with the other kids who were playing there too.
We didn’t go out much, probably because it was raining and sleeting for two out of three days. Of course the day we went home was glorious, as is today. Oh well.
Driving home — starting later than usual — was no big deal. Nothing special until we were almost home. The sun had been swinging to setting down for the night, but at about four thirty, everything turned gold. The gray naked trees turned bright gold. They looked like deep autumn trees. The combination of the shadows and the sunlight were absolutely amazing.
I’ve been in the presence of golden light a few times. Once, at sundown, on our street, facing almost due west into the lowering sun. Another late afternoon on the Mumford river. The sun was gold, the trees were amber from the very end of autumn and the light hit the water and turned it to molten gold. This was similar but it lasted much longer. It was first pale yellow and deepened for close to an hour. By the time we were within a mile of home, we had to pull off the road and take pictures.
I’m sure there is someone out there who knows what causes light to change color? Particles in the air? Some odd configuration of a falling sun and the shape and form of the clouds? Reflections of amber leaves on the last of the Autumn trees? It is a remarkable event for the human eye. I may never find myself in that ring of glowing gold again, but I won’t so easily forget it.