Hunters of light
Nothing fancy. A quick walk just after dawn. Isn’t it incredible what a difference light can make to the most ordinary of subjects? Miraculous even.
How lucky we “hunters of light” are to appreciate those little things. Just a few seconds, an angle changes by a couple of degrees, a leaf shifts in the breeze, shimmering, shifting… that’s all it takes to remain spellbound.
It’s as if for an instant, that was the light we’d been waiting our whole life for. That particular light and no other.
Then it’s gone and we’re left with a vague anxiety, a creeping apprehension, wondering whether we’ve succeeded in “capturing” that energy, transposing those photons into pixels and memories.
There’s the light that pierces and penetrates. Translucency and opacity. Textures revealed.
There’s the light that frames. Shadows and shapes that ripple and stir, refusing to hold still while we fiddle with knobs and dials.
There’s the gentle, compliant light that whispers rather than shouts.
And there’s the light that reflects, whether we want it or not.
And fellow “hunters of light” there I am, reflected in the uncompromisingly shiny surface of these industrious ants, engrossed in their preparations for winter. I could, of course, have eliminated myself with a few clicks, but I rather like being there, or rather, being here with you. Che la luce sia dolce con voi… which roughly translates as: “May the light be kind to you”, but it sounds so much better in Italian.
Adapted from an article first published in The 617 Club.
For my Italian-speaking friends (or anyone wanting to translate into another language), I recommend DeepL translator available clicking here or also as a browser extension for Google Chrome.
Per i miei amici di lingua italiana (o chiunque voglia tradurre in un’altra lingua), consiglio DeepL translator disponibile cliccando qui o anche come estensione per il browser Google Chrome.