Shadows

The pre-performance lectures for opera and ballet are held in the glass-enclosed second floor lobby space of the new Four Seasons Performance Center. I arrived a little late for a recent lecture, so all the seats were taken. I stood against the wall facing the windows. When the sun began to stream in, threatening to overheat the room and the patrons, the clever, automatic, light-triggered shades lowered themselves. From then on, wavy shadows rippled against the shades, forming and reforming lines that were curvy, then straight, then wavy. I couldn't see what exactly was making such attractive patterns, so I just watched them as I pretended to be listening to the talk.

 

The next day I was looking out our front window at the familiar neighbourhood. The sun shone through the maple tree across from us, creating dapples that danced with each slight breeze.

 

The shadow phenomenon! There aren't many laws of physics that are so immediately comprehensible. Take a light source (a rather wimpy term for our Sun), put something in front of it to block the light, and voila! Shadows play against any surface. Still shadows invite study. Wind-driven, dancing shadows invite dreaminess. Shadows supply the simple mind with endless entertainment.

 

Imagine lying under your big oak or maple or (lucky you!) elm in the summer. The leaf-shadows dapple you and shield you from the hot sun. As the breeze blows, shadows dance over your face, your arms, your legs, camouflaging you so that you are just another piece of the landscape.

 

I'm with Gerard Manley Hopkins: "Glory be to God for dappled things . . ."

 

 

Copyright 2010 Ann Tudor   

www.anntudor.ca
http://scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com