I went on a walk a few weeks ago and I’m still thinking about the Light that day. The place is called Penny’s Bend, where the walking path winds alongside a slow-moving river.

The late autumn leaves glowed amber-gold, bright and fiery, all around lit by the late afternoon sun.

The river’s dark surface was a mirror, glittering with the floating leaves.

Even the fallen leaves, crunchy underfoot, seemed lovingly placed there, an offering.

There was hardly anyone else out there, and when I did meet someone on the path, I wondered whether they were experiencing the same miracle I was.

Like I said, I’ve been thinking about this Light for at least a few weeks now. I’ve wished a number of times since then that I could write poetry, looking for another way to capture that experience. Not because I was dissatisfied by my chosen medium, but because that Beauty seemed TOO MUCH for my camera. Several times that day, I willed myself to stand still, to pay attention, to take it all in, and to be grateful for the Gift.

-Eyes wide open, Chinwe