When I descend the stairs each morning at about 5:25, I rarely focus on anything except the next step. This morning, I saw something the light on the stair wall threw against the corner of my living room: an eerie shadow blossomed like some flower from Wonderland.Until I took an art history course, I had never understood that shadows are composed of colors. I had always thought they came in shades of gray. This morning's shadow in shades of umber printed a spinning exclamation point, as if to say Welcome to the day not yet dawning.
I'm looking at shadows more closely from now on.
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