A String of Pearls

It seems that during this fallen month the light has been impatient to descend from the sky, from its burning home, the dying summer planet.  Before the horizon melts into continents of bronze and crimson – a passionate cartography – the radiance has already settled like beads of sweat, like a string of pearls, on all earthly, waiting objects.

Tree Lighting

 A telephone wire, drumming with voices, is transformed into an illuminated rope – a shining cord eager to decorate the chattering world in its holiday embrace.  It stretches for miles, a carefree reminder that the day is weary, the year is ending and a new season has arrived, coating the months in droplets of its sweet, golden light.

Electric Wire

The overeager radiance wraps around the lines like Autumn’s DNA, rich and bright.  It glows with life: linked baubles with the veneer of harvests, of feasts…an alchemy of joy.  In that time of year when both sun and moon appear at once in the sky – the one growing weaker as the other becomes stronger – light becomes a solid, thick with color and meaning.  It merges with the earth, it sinks into the ground, and makes the world a golden circle of celebration.

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11 responses to “A String of Pearls

  1. I love how you saw a string of pearls there. Now I can remember the sight this way, too. I like your wonderful ode to autumn’s sights.

  2. Cool. This really gave life to that scene, most people don’t see it. I wish I could find a photo from a few years ago – a white pine fell and hit a telephone wire during an evening ice storm, which landed in the road and caught on fire, lighting up the pine tree. The headline was “March Goes Out like a Lion”. They weren’t kidding.

  3. The Autumn light does have a soothing essence to help us ease into shorter days and colder weather. Your words have captured this beautifully. ~ Lynda

  4. Is this your neighborhood? Even though its just a glance, I love these types of homes and streets, its the type of neighborhood I want to live in one day, very beautiful, can see the stucco of a white house and spanish style roof, and all the lush plants and trees all around, gorgeous 🙂

  5. Sparks – when I first saw this, I did not think of afternoon, or early evening, or sunset…I immediately went into autumnal metaphors, and what a collection had piled up during the dreary (for me) summer months!

    Emmy – no indeed! Fire and ice merging together: this must have been quite a mixture!

    pixilated2 – whenever I see that rich, golden light, and the long shadows stretching along the sidewalk, I know the equinox has passed, and the autumn months are near.

    savethephotos – this is where I work, it is very lovely! Unfortunately we’ll be moving soon, into a neighborhood surrounded by stores: paint supplies, car supplies, garages and mini-malls. We’ll overlook a concrete-lined river, nearly dried up now…I trust the bodies will soon start showing up. Not a very fair exchange.

  6. I love the effect of light shining on power or telephone lines – it can be sunshine, moonlight, a streetlight or a stray headlight, whatever, it is fascinating to me. I have taken a zillion photographs of the wires in our alley under a streetlight – they are especially entrancing when slick with rain or snow and that artificial light.

  7. I’m glad I found your blog; I have added it to my list of favourites. I love your poetical descriptions of the ordinary.

  8. elizabethannewrites

    Ooooooh, this post reminds me how much I’ve missed your magical way with words, Aubs! I’m strolling around the “old neighborhood” tonight, reacquainting myself with old chums, and clicking on “notify me of new posts via email” here, there and everywhere. I’ve been out of touch too long.

    The Gat formerly known as Morgat.

  9. A happy turn of phrase, to refer to this first full month of fall as fallen.

  10. Oh, and when it comes to wires, I recently had a different, glintless, but occupied take on them:

    http://portraitsofwildflowers.wordpress.com/2011/10/18/theyre-back/

  11. Aubrey,
    Perhaps you are familar with the poem by Carol Duffy – ‘Warming her Pearls’ If not – I’m sure you would enjoy.
    x

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