Walking home alone at night, makes the familiar strange. In place of colours and detail grand, there ’s awkward forms that haunt the gloom. These daytime trees loom dark against the sky, and in the shadows creep things that seem to hide.
And then above, a beam springs out. A soft white light that hid behind a storm. It’s silver light spins webs of life upon the giant forms that loomed. A glorious stream of sparkles now appear to paint the world as if surreal. And in the glow I smile.
Then I sense the humid air and with it fragrance sweet. The blossoms have opened up their hearts to share their beauty in the dark. It always is a grand surprise to meet a symphony at my door. I look around and wonder why the night has no encore!
Author – Bill Tidsbury