The Lighthouse

the lighthouse

29 January 2010


Imagine George Emerson from Room with a view up in the tree, overwhelmed by what he sees, bellowing out "Beauty!" from the depths of his soul.
This morning, I am George, only I am perched on my bed tucked under the window. What I see is a beautiful lavender sky, with glimpses of gold and white peeking through. It's a lovely soft day today - respite from the achingly winterish experience of yesterday.

The sun is subdued at this early hour, but it manages to find the sparkly things I have laying about that I love so much - the fake tin box I keep costume jewellry in; the old mason jar full of loose change, a chunky votive candle holder, an old fashioned sort of make up mirror. I know that they are just junk-shop finds, but in the forgiving light of this new day, they look like treasures.

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