The sun’s come out and as always after a storm, the light this morning was glorious – gold and mellow and glowing.
It reminded me of the morning after my first Sri Lankan storm. R and I had been staying in the village of Ella, atop the Gap at the Southern edge of the mountains. Overnight, we’d had front row seats to a mighty thunder and lightening display played out on the plains below, and in the morning, on our way to catch the early train to Nuwara Eliya, were dazzled by a tree etched into the limpid air.
Serendipitously, our first sightings of Sri Lanka’s fabled tea country, just a little later, were lit by a similar etherial light (apologies for the lack of definition in these scans of old prints).
At Angkor Wat one morning, decades later, the sun shone like a spotlight onto the resplendent statue of King King Suryavarman II as Vishnu, fittingly godlike as supplicants came to pay homage, or seek succour from a 12th century statue of the great god/king of the Khmer Empire – once again resplendent after years of darkness and neglect.
Speaking of dark days, not since the war had England had such a dark Christmas as that of 1972. It was the year of the coal miner’s strike, and the first oil embargo – power was rationed three days on, three days off (Imagine working by lamplight in the offices of today!). Harrods, with its huge generator, was a beacon in an otherwise almost blacked out Knightsbridge.
The burnt orange flowers of a Canna Tropicana ablaze in the sunlight
and a single hot pink cactus flower – all from my garden in Australia.
All thanks to Ailsa at Where’s My Backpack? for suggesting Bright things for her Travel Theme this week.