There is an optical illusion that impressed itself upon my brain in my youth. You are likely aware of it.
I retired last night, wondering if conditions meteorological and somnambulogical would allow for me to see a lunar eclipse on the solstice.
Alas, the heavens brought snow to ease the way for jolly old sorts in sleighs later this week, but obscured any hope of seeing glowing orange orbs hovering overhead.
Real ones, in the sky, at least.
My meandering thoughts took me past things razor's edge. Lean this way, and things appear so. Lean a little in another direction, and they are something else. A lamp. Two faces.
Mushroom. The ghost of Apres L'Ondee.
The second would be, of course, Frederic Malle / Maurice Roucel's Dans Tes Bras. In a phenomenon different from "morphing," when a perfume progresses from one something to another something, but consistently behaves as such from wearing to wearing, the olfactory illusion creates a different experience depending upon approach. With Dans Tes Bras, if I come to it at just the right point in its drydown...just as the opening notes start to settle, before violet and heliotrope really first start to appear, the overlay between the opening and next unfolding smells like...mushrooms. Yes, I get what people were saying when this one first came out. Mushrooms. Which I missed at the time. And yet got something earthy. Fifth trip in, I ran around with an "aha! Apres L'Ondee!! it's in there!!!" moment.
Fall. Spring. Something its own. Something that puts a ghost in a prism.
All depending on what your perspective is that day, and where/when you put your eyes/nose to it.
Which got me to thinking about winter, and long nights, and icicles. And how radically different scents come up as "winter," depending on who is talking or who is looking. L'Eau d'Hiver, because it is white (Tom), or because it smells like that icicle (actually, she says snow) when it melts in your hand (Bois de Jasmin, who is writing again btw, oh happy happy). Nuit de Noel, because it is the smell of that which is wonderful about Christmas Eve, snug and happy with loved ones (Patty), or because it's simplicity conveys all that is good about Christmas, simple pleasures and time with friends (Yesterday's Perfume).
There they are. Both winter attached. And yet very different, the light ethereal shimmery Hiver and the simple thick orange confection Nuit de Noel. Perspective.
There is something fitting about these contrasts that should be either/or but become "and" when they pass through a certain part of your mental process. Something fitting when apehelion and perehelion become bandied in ways you usually don't hear unless you are in science class.
Something a little wonderful about the fully "lit" moon, which is really just reflecting the sun's light, being obscured by your/our/the earth's shadow, which allows it to change color and character, if only for a little bit.
May your solstice allow for many happy discoveries.