Dawn Light resonates strongly with me, covering a multi-faceted swath of interests, and amplifying the ideas underlying my Moments in the Park project. In a series of essays, mostly revolving around the early morning hours, Ackerman ranges widely over philosophy, art, science, and culture, all in lovely, lyrical prose. Ackerman is clearly fascinated by language, choosing her words with utmost care and exploring the metaphors that often go unnoticed in everyday expressions, as, “When something ‘dawns’ on us, a stellar insight floats in the mind.” She frequently delves into linguistics and etymology, drawing connections and weaving a rich tapestry of words. She also reaches more broadly across mythology and spiritual traditions from a variety of cultures noting, for example, the many spiritual practices that involve a confluence of water and sunrise. Amongst the broad and deep treatment of the subjects on the humanities side of the academic menu, Ackerman sprinkles fascinating bits of science, from the biology of birdsong to the neurological activity of sight.
The first two sections are rooted in observations from Ackerman’s two homes, spring in Palm Springs, Florida and summer in Ithaca, New York. These essays reflect close observations of the two very different environments, especially their avian inhabitants. The pages are strewn with keen descriptions, what I refer to as “moments.” “Flashing white wings and bellies, trailing long elegant legs, cranes soar above the noise and sorrow of the world, the only pure things among impure beings, rising with slow stately wingbeats,” and, “the first sight that greets me is a small lotus pond. There, like an array of radio telescopes searching for extraterrestrial life, fifty giant round leaves lift their faces to the sky.”
In fact, Ackerman also uses the term “moments” frequently in the same way I do, to refer to specific observations of nature captured and illuminated through language and art. This concept comes through explicitly in a chapter on Monet, as she describes his work as focusing the viewer’s perceptions on an instant in time. “Moments tremble like the meniscus atop too-full glasses of water, bright domes of reflection swollen with life and ready to spill away. Likewise, we tremble, we brim, we fall. By freezing those continuums solid in color, Monet could revisit the instantaneous, idylls so sense-stealing that thought creaks to a halt, the senses stammer something like light, light, light, and, for a while anyway, all the hounds of time heel.” References to Monet and to the power of art to call attention to the extraordinary in the every day recur throughout the book.
As with any collection of short works, some of the essays were absorbing and fascinating, inviting contemplation long after the initial reading, while others fell a bit flat. Overall, the fascinating outweighed the flat by a wide margin, as the prose and the concepts make Dawn Light a book worth savoring on many levels.