Luminescence

The building was old. The window was shut. The sun found it nonetheless: luminescence.

I have been thinking lately about how bright the shine can be on places, or people, we return to after a long absence. The garden down the road seems brighter, more tender, when we notice it (finally) again. An old friend drives by, stops, is suddenly before you, and there, in that moment, the friendship is newly burnished.

Recently a client called me back after a two-year hiatus, and it felt like going dancing. Reconnecting with the team (still there, still charming, still able to affably get my goat like few others affably can). Filling in the blanks. Sitting with the CEO and talking history, Philadelphia, library expansions, river developments, the future of public television, the remaking of urban landscapes. People are not replaceable, that is a fact, and I count it a privilege when we in this life get to know others over a palpable stretch of time.

No conversation to be taken for granted. No window permanently shuttered.