Of all the paparazzi snaps I've taken of Loki Doberdog, very few have been at night.unless you count the night of the exploding transformer. The weather has also been a tad unwelcoming as of late for bare-hands, as it's been minus thirty below this week.
Night walks are quite therapeutic, and many of my best reflections happen when the moon is out, especially under the lonely yet peaceful blanket that is winter. On a similar note, I found this essay about "street sauntering" by Virginia Woolf Street Haunting: A London Adventure "The hour should be the evening and the season winter, for in winter the champagne brightness of the air and the sociability of the streets are grateful"
Here are some photos of Loki in snowy champagne brightness, with accompanying quotes from the 1927 piece.
Night walks are quite therapeutic, and many of my best reflections happen when the moon is out, especially under the lonely yet peaceful blanket that is winter. On a similar note, I found this essay about "street sauntering" by Virginia Woolf Street Haunting: A London Adventure "The hour should be the evening and the season winter, for in winter the champagne brightness of the air and the sociability of the streets are grateful"
Here are some photos of Loki in snowy champagne brightness, with accompanying quotes from the 1927 piece.
"How beautiful a street is in winter! It is at once revealed and obscured. Here vaguely one can trace symmetrical straight avenues of doors and windows; here under the lamps are floating islands of pale light"
"The evening hour, too, gives us the irresponsibility which darkness and lamplight bestow. We are no longer quite ourselves."
For the eye has this strange property: it rests only on beauty; like a butterfly it seeks color and basks in warmth. On a winter’s night like this, when nature has been at pains to polish and preen herself, it brings back the prettiest trophies
We are reminded; high among the bare trees are hung oblong frames of reddish yellow light—windows; there are points of brilliance burning steadily like low stars—lamps; this empty ground, which holds the country in it and its peace, is only a London square, set about by offices and houses where at this hour fierce lights burn over maps, over documents, over desks where clerks sit turning with wetted forefinger the files of endless correspondences;
Passing, glimpsing, everything seems accidentally but miraculously sprinkled with beauty...with no thought of buying, the eye is sportive and generous; it creates; it adorns; it enhances.
Only motor–cars are abroad at this hour, and one has a sense of emptiness, of airiness, of secluded gaiety.
To escape is the greatest of pleasures; street haunting in winter the greatest of adventures.
Is there an essay or a poem that could be illustrated with pictures of your adventures? I propose a blog challenge, if you're up for it, take Loki's lead and dogument your own! (doesn't have to be weather related, great way to share literature)
Nightie night!
Nightie night!