1. April 1, 2014 12:45 PM Outside Roosevelt Hall
2. Light filtering through branches onto cobblestone plaza
3. The intertwining patterns created from the tree hanging above me were mesmerizing as the wind softly shook the branches. The sun shone brightly, making a stark difference between the the distinct pattern of bare limbs with budding leaves and the hot sun that promised spring was on the way.
Monday 6 February, 2012
Outside Emily Lowe Hall and the Cranford Adams Playhouse
Around 8:00 pm
I’m walking from Lowe towards the Playhouse and I see the moon in the sky. It’s visible through the branches of one of the trees and is framed on either side by the lampposts outside of the Playhouse.
I appreciated that the first thing I noticed, despite the tree branches, despite the shining lampposts, and despite the overall light pollution that shrouds Long Island was the visibility and brightness of the moon. It was just that shade of yellow that’s hinting at a harvest moon to come, and it’s appearance through the tree branches against the pitch black backdrop was beautiful. But the invading abruptness of the unnatural light from the lampposts added a certain level of sinisterness to it, as if the lampposts were planning on overcompensating for something and outshining the moon so much that it would be drowned out forever.