Saturday, December 4, 2010

Motes

The morning column sunlight, from a low flying autumn sun, slowly scanned across the gathered congregants from the one uncovered, east facing, pane.  Like a spotlight from the back of the theater it scanned from stage left to right. Eventually the beam found me, where I sit most Sundays, like I did that Sunday, which is where Amy and I sat most Sundays.  It warmed me.  Then, through squinting eyes, countless dust motes appeared, dancing this way and that in the motionless air.  Undetectable convection currents and gentle inhales and exhales of the community created just the right currents for the many points of light to swirl, some slowly and some less slowly.  Some passed steadily through the illumination un-hindered off to attend to some important matter elsewhere. Others lazily swirled and twisted and paused then swirled again towards the shadows and out of sight without any urgency whatsoever.  For a few moments I stared towards the light and wondered the nature of these strange little creatures.  Then my moment in the sunlight ended.

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