In a better light

We are finally seeing the arrival of ‘good light’, here in Norfolk. The low winter sun has departed, and with it, the harsh blinding light we have endured since December. Today, I went out with Ollie, and basked in that proper early summer light. Everything looked fresh and clean. Colours are finally rendered correctly. The various shrubs, trees, and grasses have finally managed to display their true greens. The battleship greys of winter are behind us, and the hundreds of different greens, from blue-black, to a yellow hue, are once again visible.

Shadows are evident once more, and my own walked ahead of me , distorted by light into an elongated version of my original. The local river took on a different aspect too. The winter light, harsh and reflective, was replaced by polarising light, enabling me to see the bottom of the shallow water; sometimes sharp clear gravel, other times a muddy mess of decomposing reeds. Butterflies flicker in the sunshine, and by the water’s edge, clouds of tiny insects fly in spirals.

Over at Hoe Rough, the light is sharp, affording a view of at least a mile, if not more. This late afternoon light is the best you will ever see; untroubled by pollution, excessive cloud formation, or haze. The bees are busy, sounding loud and alarming after a long winter absence. Flowers emerge on the spiny bushes, and the different hues of the shrubs are at long last discernible. This is a great time of year. Pleasantly warm, but not unduly hot. Blue skies with a light that illuminates all, dappling the shadows, and the tree branches looming large. This light is elusive, and much sought-after by photographers and painters. It lasts but a short time, before being replaced by dazzling sunshine. It is simply magical.

I could live forever in this light. It is the light of composition, of adequate but unobtrusive reflection, a light reluctant to depart at dusk. I could have lived out my days in London, and never noticed it. In Norfolk, it cries out for attention, for praise, and acclamation. It is wonderful.

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32 thoughts on “In a better light

    1. Thanks Jane. I definitely had a ‘moment’ that afternoon, and it inspired the change in style and theme of the post, which I am really pleased about. Thanks for taking time to catch up on all these posts by the way, it is much appreciated. X

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  1. I have not enough words in english to describe how wonderful is your post!
    Thank you so much! Best wishes from the rainy German North Sea! 🙂

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  2. Wow, the way you describe it is just perfect. We are having a hot, hot weather here and you can do nothing outside. I enjoy reading though in the comfort of home.

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  3. The best time of day is evening here in Las Vegas. The folds in the desert mountains are cast into shadow, giving the mountains a beautiful relief, and the exposed flanks take on a purple hue.
    I would love to experience the spring light in Beetley as you describe it. Your descriptions are quite vivid, and though they tickled my imagination, I would truly like to witness all of this first-hand.
    Thanks for a great post!

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    1. Thanks David. I doubt that humble Beetley could compare to the majestic mountains, and the vastness of the Mojave Desert, but it does have its moments.
      Best wishes as always, Pete.

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  4. Well said Pete. The light here has been exceptionally clear the last couple of days, enabling me to see the distant south Shropshire hills without the haze. And the colours are astonishing, myriads of greens lined the roads from Cornwall to Shropshire when only a couple of weeks ago the major colours were brown and black with a froth of white blackthorn. A marvellous ending to April.

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  5. Pete, what a delightful post here today as always… You are my friend a master of words and should publish a novel. I for one would completely enjoy reading it.

    Take care and happy blogging to ya, from Laura ~

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  6. I’ll tell you what cries out for praise and acclamation, this post! It is beautiful and evocative and makes me want to drive out there and experience this splendour for myself. Put the kettle on! x

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          1. *Squish!* Wait till I tell you about volunteering for an art-house cinema that screens great British classics… Lean, Hitch, Reed, etc. In fact I shall blog about it. Watch this space! x

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