AS ONE WHO WAKES

     
I don’t ever recall awakening “half-blinded at the coming of a light”, as the poet Alfred Tennyson put it (below), but I do recall sometimes being so surprised by what I was seeing or reading that it was like a stunning light had been lit in my life. I’ve seen colors in the sunset sky over Mystic, for instance, that were startling to my eyes, and valleys of falling gray rain that seemed to shine with dusky loveliness, and even small stones in tidal pools that made my eyes squint at their iridescent brilliance in the sunlight. Something similar sometimes happens when I’m reading – a single word that shimmers with significance, or a phrase that seems to flash as I read it, or a sentence that throws so much light at me that I almost have to turn my eyes aside. Occasionally a whole collection of pages will sparkle intensely, as if I’m holding a bright light in my hands, and I have to set the book down and rub my eyes so I can see again.