Lighting Observation

As I was walking to class Thursday morning at an ungodly hour (any time before noon) it was raining, and the puddles on the ground created a mirror like smooth surface that held a reflection of the trees above them.

As I looked down at the puddles, I saw a reflection of twisted bare limbed trees, superimposed over the mottled browns and grays of the concrete sidewalks that crisscross all over campus. I watched as the raindrops hit the surface of these puddles and made the trees dance and turn on the surface of the water, as though they were part of another world. The reflection was not merely an imperfect and broken representation of the real trees above, but an image of another world locked just behind the surface of the water, separate entirely from the concrete below that did not twist with the ripples of the water: the cold concrete of reality.

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