This Light Tonight
This was my ride home today. It was a journey through light, starting with the blue embrace of the air as I dropped into the river valley, into the quiet.
Everywhere there is sky as I headed west along the shoulder of the riverbank, below the unblinking lights of downtown.
Brake lights on buses and cars punctuate the flow of traffic on 98th Avenue.
The winter sunset suggests itself in the southwest. Blush hour.
A statement of the High Level Bridge, in black.
The light of an oncoming cyclist does its complex work: you are not alone.
Shadows and cables and a piece of headlight in the gathering gloom.
The path through the MacKinnon Ravine where the temperature drops.
Six lights atop the 142nd St. bridge, and the climb is half done.
Loops of coloured light as I leave the trail behind and turn south down 149th St.
Yet the darkness did not overcome it. The nativity scene at St. John The Evangelist Church.
Tonight was the last night for this season's Candy Cane Lane.
Spruce trees somehow need snow and lights to be complete.
And on to 148 St and the light in the window that is home.
The lightness of being.