I have not traveled very far south as far as latitude is concerned. Yet as soon as I woke up this morning, I knew I was far from home.
It’s the light.
I’ve spent the whole day pondering it. What is it about the light that makes me sure I’m somewhere else? Somewhere semi-tropical? I know that the angle of sunlight is different, but why does my eye see that? It seems like color, but I could not name the color I see.
The sun shines (sometimes) in my hometown. It even gets hot, dry. But it seems more golden in the summer and bluer in the wet seasons. Darker light.
The light here is whiter. Everything seems more exposed. The shadows seem too shallow to hide more than a thin spider, or two.
The light is relentless.