Crisp

I love mornings like this one. It's cold out -- but not too cold -- and sunny. Sunny is the magic word. An old boyfriend said of this kind of day, "It makes you feel good to be alive." He was right about that. Everything is hard and sharp and bathed in a pale, thin yellow light. A light I'd like to be able to capture.
Ingmar Bergman once had a screenplay or a script treatment published in the New Yorker and he was meticulous in describing the lighting of each scene. One sticks with me -- he speaks of the light coming through a window on the morning when the first snow has fallen. It's true, there is a new light when that happens.
I have Bergman to thank for this awareness of mine.
And for a lot of other awarenesses, too. I have The Seventh Seal and Truffaut's 400 Blows to thank for opening my eyes to what a movie could do.
Come to think of it, the light at the beach in the freeze frame at the end of 400 Blows is pretty wonderful...