Light play

Late last evening I drove to Toronto through pools of light, mist and shadow. Moisture smeared my windshield. Fog spilled like lakes through the low areas. Penumbras and sheets of dim luminescence surrounded each streetlamp, pulling me from one view to the next as shifting sets on a stage. Trees drifted dreamily from scene to scene, slender limbs coiled demonstratively, traced with silver and pale gold, emerging, vanishing and re-emerging.

Along the highway moved pairs of exclamatory eyes, white and red. I wondered whether anyone paid attention to the play, but the drivers kept pressing urgently past on the right, upstaging one another, oblivious to the deeper story unfolding around them.