Marginalia, no.258

…the mobile shade of the trees.

~ Vladimir Nabokov, Speak, Memory

Add “the roundness of the sun” to the list of things that determine my experience of the world in ways I never guessed. Yesterday we made a pinhole camera and projected the solar eclipse onto a sheet of paper. The image was clear, but small; the kids only shrugged. I walked into the greenbelt behind the house. The crows were calling in the branches. Turning back, the texture of home’s familiar shadows had changed. Filtered through the leaves, a thousand winking crescent suns danced on the wall.


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