Saturday, December 10, 2011

Colored light

I watched the early morning light pass over and through the windows of colored glass, leaving streaks of red and green and yellow on the stone floor. When I was little, I used to try and capture the colored light. I thought I could hold it in my hand and carry it home. Now I know it is like happiness— it is there or it is not, you cannot hold it or keep it.

Karen Cushman