A cold wind blew in from the north, jetstream dreaming its way south. I took a train in the midst of fall frenzy–grading and recommendations and more grading–to say goodbye to a corner of my past. To New Haven by train at the crack of dawn–quite literally–5:30 am. I journeyed up the coast to a memorial service for a coach from forty years ago. Outside the window, light crawled out from its dark shadow, low to the ground, then rising; the golden hour gilded the land into lines and curves into something rich and strange–Ariel singing in the background, the magic of light, for Prospero. In Battell Chapel the lines and curves of time upon us carved our faces, told our histories. We remembered Don. We praised Barb. We walked around our pasts on the flagstone pathways. Light faded into night.
New York City Skyline from the Train just after Sunrise
Sterling Library Main Reading Room Lights
Sunset outside Trenton from the Train