It was late in the almost-summer afternoon. The sun’s path crosses generally forward from the skylight, which is shaded by both a tree and in its manufacturing, and there is a half wall between it and this wall.
And yet somehow.
The rest of the time this is simply one plain eggshell-white expanse within a short windowless corridor. But the light refused to be contained and it came through to whatever space it could reach and when the time was right, waiting quietly to be seen.