Chasing Light

So fellow travelers, the light as I was driving into work a few days ago was incredible. Incredibly poetic and incredibly frustrating too. Driving past image after image I longed to capture, unable stop all I could do was take mental snapshots and make notes of shots to get on a future morning off, provided of course conditions are similar. Which they rarely are. Patience and creative expression are testy balance sometimes.

So I drove on, past rose tinted tree tops, past glowing willow trees, past a stunning hilltop view of the tiny church steeple washed in peach and gold above still darkened village rooftops, past my favorite field…no wait.

Here I could easily pull over, roll down my window and grab a quick shot with my phone.


I am working on a series of images featuring this tree in different light through the seasons. I hope I can capture this same light with my DSLR another morning before both tree and field green up, but the weekend forecast may not cooperate.  This day dawned cold and clear; our weekend says cloudy with snow.  I have that shot already, several versions in fact.

By the time I pulled into the parking lot, the light was already shifting from watercolor washes to pure white daylight.  As I pulled into the high school parking lot, I did catch this view of the steam vent on the roof.

Rose tinted smoke signals reminding me of some “official statements” the staff and community received via email the day before. (For the record they are unrelated to the recent death of one of our students. They stem from an entirely different matter.)  Thoughts began to flow in a rhythm of their own.

Obscure smoke signals
are not clear
The veiled messages
do not hide
lurking ugly truths
Hollow protocol
feeds rumors
adding to turmoil
A community’s
trust broken
can it be rebuilt?

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

Editorial note : for this poem I used a form new to me called lune with 5-3-5 pattern. I am learning a lot from the work poets are posting during National Poetry Month and hope to explore many new formats in my own writing.

Deborah H Rahalski

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