I walked right by this doorway the first time.
It’s not that I hadn’t noticed it. I had. But, I just kept walking.
And, then, I turned around.
Something called me back. I wasn’t sure what and I didn’t know why.
It’s not a view that grabs your attention. No instant, compelling sense of beauty – at least, not to me.
But, I took a few shots anyway. I had to. I couldn’t just walk away.
Looking at the photos later, the beauty of the scene began to reveal itself to me. Perhaps my eye caught up with what my heart had seen.
It’s the balance I like.
The horizontal and vertical lines in harmony. The softness of the pale white that drifts down the dark stairs in contrast to the hardness and clean lines of the windows, reflecting the slate sky. It’s the simplicity of three singular colours – brown, white and grey, and three elements – glass, concrete and steel.
It’s a bit stark. Not really inviting, I have to say. So, it’s not my favourite scene.
But the balance of it, the simplicity of it. That signalled something to me.
Balance and simplicity. Calling my name.
Can’t just let that go by.
This is a story of stop-light joy.
It was rush hour. And, I was in the thick of it.
I had dinner plans, and my friend was expecting me. Yes, one of those rush hour experiences.
Feeling rushed on the inside. Nothing to be done about it on the outside.
That’s when I started to take a look around.
I was sitting at a left-hand turn, with a dozen or more cars in front of me. I was going to be there awhile.
And, that’s when I noticed something I had passed a thousand times before, but clearly had never seen.
The busy, busy, busy, often smells like baked bread when you pass by, industrial bakery – at night. Maybe I’d been distracted by the intoxicating smell of fresh-baked bread, but I hadn’t ever noticed the building in all its night-time glory.
Beautiful white light. The shadows from inside. The black window frames. Square within a square within a square. The yellow and red squares of primary colour magic muted by darkness.
Honestly, I was hoping the stop-light wouldn’t change at that point. I fished around my purse for the camera, slid the window down on this winter’s night, and snapped as many pictures as I could before I had to move. Three in all. That’s it. Three.
This one is my favourite. For me, it’s that gorgeous light, shining in the darkness – gets me every time.
That’s what I call, Stop. Light! Joy.
The smooth, sleekness of glass.
And, concrete. And, steel.
And frame, for this…
Who’s graceful limbs
Curve and turn,
Light with dark
Stark edges of steel and glass.
Its beauty, and movement,
To street and sky.