Light Seen.

First things first: it's chilly out, and partly to mostly cloudy. Should warm into the afternoon such that sitting out in the yard, whether at your home or at your work, might not be the worst idea you ever had.

Second things second, though: After a day warmer than we'd been told it would be, a better day than we could have wished for, a little slashing something whipped through at about 6 last night and spit on us for a while—the driveway didn't even get fully wet. You could still see dry driveway between the raindrops. But that's not what I'm telling you about. What I'm telling you about is what came next: At around seven, or a little later, the edge of that thing cleared east just far enough to let the sun set off the back side of it, and what resulted was this liquid golden light that even a nonbeliever like me would have to call sanctified, and you don't have to take my word for it: Up and down Walker Ave—I was piloting the ANYLFMobile down Walker Ave—people were coming out of their houses and places of business and leisure to photograph the light. A young woman came out of the Blind Tiger and took one shot facing east, into the golden sanctified light, and one shot facing west, into the blinding setting sun. Persons came out of their homes and stood on the sidewalks and took pictures on cell phones and actual cameras.

The light was like this: It made the leafless trees, whose bark is gray and brown by any other measure, turn gold. There are not really any other words besides gold for what this was. Golden and sanctified. And I have to say that I think not having leaves yet did something to the quality and the caliber of this light, kept it from being green, maybe, kept it gold. This was the kind of light where you'd want to contact your friends and neighbors and say, Hey, did you see the light? This was the kind of light where, later last night, after I returned thirty dollars lighter from my Walker Ave poker game, AMR, who does not always notice things such as the outside world, said, Did you see the light?

We'll use 'sanctified,' by the way, in a non-exclusive non-specifically-religious way. We'll use it in a Jesus-waving-flags-and-menorahs kind of way. A meteorological way, then.