The weatherman predicted severe thunderstorms yesterday and for once, he was right.
Although the storm didn’t last long, it was ferocious and intense, worse even than the times I’ve been here during hurricanes. There were a number of tornadoes and hail in various areas around us, but we were lucky here in Thonotosassa, there was only rain and wind.
Did I say only rain and wind? A couple of times, the wind was blowing so violently the camper rocked as if it were going to tip over. The rain was so intense, it was like Niagara Falls down the west side of my camper.
About 9 PM though, the wind dropped off and the rain slowed to a reasonable rate. I was glad it was over.
Yesterday, my writing prompt was: Shadows. Have you ever thought much about shadows? I haven’t and will probably spend more time on what I wrote about them as I think more about them. In any case, this is what I wrote:
What is a shadow?
To understand shadows requires an understanding of darkness and light. While darkness is the absence of light, light is not the absence of darkness. The blocking of light by an object creates an area of defined partial darkness called a shadow. The shadow’s shape, size and intensity depend on a number of factors, including the shape and size of the object, the brightness of the light, the distance of the light source from the object, and the angle of the light. As the object moves in relationship to the light or the light moves in relationship to the object, the shadow can change in size, shape, and intensity.
An object can cast more than one shadow at a time, but more than one light source is required.
The term shadow is used in many ways. The phrase “beyond the shadow of a doubt” comes to mind, as well as “He is a shadow of his former self” and “…the valley of the shadow of death.” In these phrases, “shadow” refers to a hint or intimation of the object, a less than substantial version of the object.
I’d love to know your thoughts about shadow.
Until next time…
My Shadow
ReplyDeleteby Robert Louis Stevenson
I HAVE a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow—
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an India-rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.
He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me, he’s a coward you can see;
I’d think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.