Pay no mind to the city clock on the corner, it hasn’t been fixed, again. The time it shows is correct in another reality. In ours, it’s about 7:00 AM on the first morning of December, the last month of the last year of the first decade of this new century. Jersey City gets great light sometimes. Perhaps that’s why there are so many painters here. My secret theory about the light is because we’re an isthmus. We’re basically brackish lowlands. Our light is distinct from the Island of Manhattan, or the surrounding swamplands of Hudson and Essex County. The sun emerges from the edges of the buildings in the horizon, clouds crack apart. Sunbeams shift in the sky, form planks of shadows on the street. Thin, fragile branches of the newly planted trees, now leafless, sunlight seems to curl around the bare sticks. Winter Morning Light. I noticed it for the first time this season today. Quiet light, isn’t it?
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