From my daily Ruskin reading, this, today. From Modern Painters II. I am still, after all these years, overwhelmed by the greatness of the insight and his breathtaking ability to communicate it.
Whatever beauty there may result from the effects of light on foreground objects, from the dew of the grass, the flash of the cascade, the glitter of the birch trunk, or the fair daylight hues of darker things (and joyfulness there is in all of them), there is yet a light which the eye invariably seeks with a deeper feeling of the beautiful–the light of the declining or breaking day, and the flakes of scarlet cloud burning like watch-fires in the green sky of the horizon. A deeper feeling, I say, not perhaps more acute, but having more of spiritual hope and longing.
One of those, methinks, worth carrying about in your back pocket–or, these days, in your phone for quick or gentle reference.
Until next time.
Be well out there!