Photography credit: My Wife.

When you forget who you are, go back to the land you come from. Not the nation or its institutions but the land itself.

My wife goes to work from here and up the Turnpike every day at dawn. Most people have their coffee and the radio and cruise control. The tunnel vision of the constant commuter, the road a ribbon to ride to the office. But not her.

Lately, she’s been pulling over en route to take pictures with her cellphone. Because she finds the land at dawn inspiring.

She’s sent me multiple photos, beautiful photos. This is the one I can’t get out of my head. Initially, I thought the telephone pole at left was a fault. It isn’t. Bent and ugly in the foreground, it’s the crap we have to look past in order to see what’s still vital and lovely.

Beyond the horizon, through that pink mist, lies the majestic Delaware River. The eye that took the picture knows that and could see it. This is no wasteland. It’s just part of the wave of life, which isn’t always battering but salving and life giving. Mist is water is life. And light is light.

I find it inspiring. I find my wife inspiring.

However dark it gets, I have this. And you have this. If you want it and can see it.