Two pictures from the departing edge of the day.

First, ferns.



And second, a shaft of light--it's kind of exciting just looking at it; it has its own substance, it's like a creature. I feel lucky that it visited.

Puddle of light


Fringing ferns


shining through a poppy

I took a photo this morning of the sunlight that was shining into the kitchen, falling like a layer of bright, bright snow on the bench and the floor, prompting this imagined conversation:

"How much sunlight has accumulated this morning?"
"Not much; less than an inch."

This morning's accumulation of light


And when I took the photo off my camera, I discovered my last three photos, from the past few days, were all about light, too.

Small stone, sunbathing


Old snow, sparkling


Tree branches being a net for the light. And rails . . . light rails

Come away, human child, for the world is more full of leaves than you can ever know.



Come away to where the blackberries grow



Step in, step in deeper, into shadow. There are more fruits there, hidden, sweet, and black.



( Who and what were in this world? )