>>11163222Witnessed
Pareidolia. Oh, boy. As a young kid, the floor tiles on one of our rooms never failed to 'talk' to me. Every I look I am apt to see what's not apparent to other eyes.
Pic is a phenomenon that occurred every year for only one or two days at my last home in NYC, just as the rising Sun had reached the height of my bedroom windows approximately 135' above sea level, on July 5th I believe.
After a few years, I got to notice it was a pattern, and, every year thereafter, I would await the day the edges of leaves glowed. It became a ritual, that filled me.
