When I think of nocturnal and aubade, I immediately think of music. Classical. I used to drive a machine and would listen to Rock music all day. The problem was that they used to repeat the songs ad nauseam. So I switched to radio to Classical music. CBC FM. It was all the music I used to hear on Looney Tunes and Merry Melodies in the mornings when I was a kid. No kindergarten for me, no play school, it was all playing outside and "don't go to the river," which of course I did. But seeing that painting invokes different memories...of working on the river on the afternoon shift, watching the lights reflecting off the water from the farther shore.
There's a moment in late afternoon when the light on the mountains begins to shift. The snow on those mountains takes on first a pink hue as the sun starts its drop toward the horizon. The contrast with the dark trees is breathtaking. Nearly everything else is ignored during this time because this color display doesn't last. Within half an hour, that color has moved from a rosy pink, to a golden glow, and then faded to a lavender, before the sunlight disappears altogether for another day.
Evenings here are the sun sinking beyond the river, behind the trees. The streetlights winking on, calling for all children to return to their homes. The stillness that settles. And, in the summer, the gradual arrival of lightning bugs.
When I think of nocturnal and aubade, I immediately think of music. Classical. I used to drive a machine and would listen to Rock music all day. The problem was that they used to repeat the songs ad nauseam. So I switched to radio to Classical music. CBC FM. It was all the music I used to hear on Looney Tunes and Merry Melodies in the mornings when I was a kid. No kindergarten for me, no play school, it was all playing outside and "don't go to the river," which of course I did. But seeing that painting invokes different memories...of working on the river on the afternoon shift, watching the lights reflecting off the water from the farther shore.
There's a moment in late afternoon when the light on the mountains begins to shift. The snow on those mountains takes on first a pink hue as the sun starts its drop toward the horizon. The contrast with the dark trees is breathtaking. Nearly everything else is ignored during this time because this color display doesn't last. Within half an hour, that color has moved from a rosy pink, to a golden glow, and then faded to a lavender, before the sunlight disappears altogether for another day.
Your dog's name is Winnie! I love it.
Evenings here are the sun sinking beyond the river, behind the trees. The streetlights winking on, calling for all children to return to their homes. The stillness that settles. And, in the summer, the gradual arrival of lightning bugs.