Changing Light

The last couple days it seems like the light has changed, become spring-y. It's probably a result of daylight saving time being here, but I've noticed the change. It's definitely lighter later in the day but it's also darker later in the morning. Last week, when I'd open the shade over my head, dawn would be breaking with its pale yellow light, now it's pretty blue-gray out there yet. And there's frost on the roofs and ice in the birdbath. I did see my first robin this morning out there, though, sipping a drink from the birdbath. It was very dainty perched there on the rim, carefully leaning over to dip its beak in and then tip its head back to drink. Spring is coming, people. It must be, the guy across the street finally hauled his Christmas tree out to the curb. He probably kept it hidden so I didn't steal it like I did last year when I used it to feed more birds propped up in the back yard. I thought maybe he'd gotten a fake tree to foil me but he evidently just kept the carcass in his backyard so it'd be safe until now. And I was all ready to buy a jug of cheap peanut butter to spread on the branches and sprinkle birdseed on it in January, but no, he had to be selfish. That's okay, buddy, you be that way, my birdies were just fine without your tree corpse.

March 14--El Greco, Portrait of a Cardinal. Gail nudged her friend Jean. "He looks like he's ready to jump out of that chair and run away." Jean nodded. "You're right. Look how his right had is relaxed but the left one is gripping the arm of the chair." "Look at his eyes," Gail said, "he's looking off to the side like he's looking for a way to escape." The friends spend more time really analyzing the painting, the fine satin and lace of his cardinal's vestments, the odd oval pools of darkness on the stone floor, and the fact that the cardinal's glasses looked like graffiti, like they'd been added on by another hand. "What do you think is on that paper at his feet?" Jean asked. "Oh," said Gail, "that's probably a letter from his mistress." They both snickered. They spent the rest of the afternoon in the museum spinning tales about the artist and subjects, each more outrageous than the last. It was nearly dusk when they emerged laughing and holding onto each other. "I don't know when I've had more fun in a museum," Gail said. "Me neither. I think we offended that docent in the Egyptian wing." "Let her be offended. Life's too short to take things so seriously."

Okay. Time to get dressed for work. Adios.
--Barbara