Savvy's second trip outside this morning was around 7 A.M. (Note the second trip...for which I hope to garner much sympathy.) The sun was cresting the trees in the east, leaving no mystery as to its rising. Because of its position, it shone directly on one of our second-floor windows.
As I walked around the lawn, imploring Savvy to do her duty, I discovered a "hot" spot in the air. Given it was a little over forty degrees and the cold mist was still rising from the grass, I was surprised to find such heat. I turned toward the house, realized I was being hit flush in the face by the reflection of the sun off the glass of that second-story window.
Sun--to window--to me. Not the most graceful of metaphors but I couldn't help but enjoy the power of such warmth, and the wonder of it being imparted to me. Especially because we think of the transparency of glass, and not of its power to give back light.
Were I only so transparent and yet so reflective.