in praise of light

Late afternoon, walking by the river from my workplace. The light in winter, on a day of storm and then sun. It's not like summer light in Southland, which is almost my all time favourite light. Southland summer light at low lattitudes is glory. It is long and languorous and spreads itself over the land like syrup on cornbread. My other all time favourite light is around Kaikoura, in the evenings, when it's all misty and golden and falls down from the mountains to the sea, and then the Huttons shearwaters rise up the mountain, calling and helping each other in flocks of hundreds. There the mountains and the sea are so close to each other the light has a sort of lysergic intensity. It's enough to drive you to drink. Today's light was not like that. It was brittle and short. It made the river water spark and dance. It brought out the brown of the leaf litter and gilded it. i liked it, and was briefly grateful.