The light in the summer is brilliant, harsh, blinding. The assault on the senses by the sun, with its blistering temperatures and blinding glare, often obscures the obvious.
I’m finding winter light more subtle. Because we have it fewer hours at a stretch, the shifts in intensity seem, somehow, more noticeable. I especially like the feeling of standing in the shade while watching the choreography of the reflections from the windows across the street. Any street.