the moment before travel

I took these pictures about a month ago, at work. It was a sunny afternoon. I was coming down the stairs from the staff room/parts department, with a coffee, and I saw these shadows. I went and got my camera. Flossie said, "What are you doing?" I said, "Taking pictures of shadows!" She laughed appreciatively, she always does at my weirdnesses.

Something about light and shadow is really speaking to me these days. I love - the directness of it. The patterns. Light and shadow make big art on the floor or a wall or wherever, but it doesn't last, it changes with wind, or with clouds, or with the normal movement of the sun. The patterns are bright, but they are also quietness, darkness. And that's another element, it's quiet - it's silent, really. So like meditation, you can lose yourself in just watching a shadow, or the light part.

***

I'm off to Newfoundland, tomorrow! I'm taking a trip that I've been planning for a couple of months, and which I've been looking forward to for all that time. I'm going to see a dear, dear friend. I'm going to explore the town of St. John's. (Which, in my head, sounds like how Flossie pronounces it - sint-Jaans. Short "sint", long flat "a" in Johns.)

I'm going by airplane. Over land, then sea. I bet there will be some fun shadows to spy on from the air. Then nearly a whole week on the Avalon peninsula, exploring new places (well, new to me - they've actually been there for millennia, and they're not new to the people who live there) and visiting the ocean in a different place. Perhaps some outings on the town with ladies and gents, dressing up and looking shiny and cute, patronizing some nice establishments. Enjoying ourselves.

For now, it's that moment before travel - half in my normal zone - home, relaxed, dishes to be done - and half already gone. Thinking of what to pack, thinking of when I'll land, looking ahead.