A polarized world
Aug. 19th, 2008 12:21 amMy round green Lennon sunglasses, which I found seven years ago in the pocket of a smoke-stinking leather jacket from the State Theater lost & found, got broken at Pinewoods, so I purchased replacements in Bar Harbor. They are oval and gray and more stylish than I am used to, but I like them.
More importantly, the glass is polarized. When I wear them, a whole invisible world of polarized light is revealed to me, like the magic goggles in a fantasy story that let the wearer see the unseen. Bus windows shimmer with rainbows; dimples of darkness float and vanish in windshields; the blue sky darkens and lightens as I tilt my head.
I first noticed all this in Southwest Harbor, as we were walking into town from the bus. Two skylights or solar panels on the roof of a house glowed a deep, metallic purple that washed into whiteness when I removed my glasses. "That's so cool!" I said to
adfamiliares. "Wow, it is!" she said. I looked sidelong at her. "What are you looking at? You don't have the special glasses." "Huh?" she said. Then she took off her sunglasses and said, "Oh, hey, they turned white."
More importantly, the glass is polarized. When I wear them, a whole invisible world of polarized light is revealed to me, like the magic goggles in a fantasy story that let the wearer see the unseen. Bus windows shimmer with rainbows; dimples of darkness float and vanish in windshields; the blue sky darkens and lightens as I tilt my head.
I first noticed all this in Southwest Harbor, as we were walking into town from the bus. Two skylights or solar panels on the roof of a house glowed a deep, metallic purple that washed into whiteness when I removed my glasses. "That's so cool!" I said to