Shadow...

Sometimes the shadow of a thing can be more of the thing than the thing itself.

It seems the essence, the shape, the form - devoid of the detail that distracts and distorts the reality held within yet simultaneously sitting alongside, quietly supporting. Tall in the evening light, tiny in the full noon sun, flickering on and off in the trees, moving with the water over the waves.

Imagine entering into your shadow, becoming that ever changing shade, detaching yourself from our full form, slipping away and sliding out into the sunshine to wander the world. Tall and short, long and close, fat and thin, far and near. I wonder where you’d wander to. I wonder what you’d be when you got there?

Sometimes I watch myself as shadow passing over the walls, on pavements, on grass – melding and morphing with the contour of the landscape as I ripple over it. Is that the real me - never the same thing twice, constantly changing, becoming something else, the light and dark changing around me, with me - changing me?

Perhaps that’s what I’ll be. Perhaps I’ll be a shadow.