You could see how at the end of each day the world seemed cracked open and the extra light made its way across the stark trees, and promised. It promised, that light, and what a thing that was. As Cindy lay on her bed she could see this even now, the gold of the last light opening the world.

The quote is from Elizabeth Strout’s new book Olive, Again.
I found the description online, liked it a lot, decided to copy it down and use it in a post.

Today the sun was brilliant and I walked up Walter Road and then along the eastern shore of the man-made lake at North Park. Elizabeth Strout’s quote flashed in my mind as I shot picture after picture of the blue sky and the blue waters. The image is of Pine Creek as it flows into the artificial lake that is the heart of the park.

I’ve never paid much attention to the vagaries of February; never knew that there was such a thing as February light. And yet for the last couple weeks, I’ve been amazed to find it still light at 6:00 pm; to see the snowdrops sprouting in my back flowerbed; to discover the lenten-roses full of buds; to see the robins chasing each other.