Antique Obsidian Sundial

Yesterday I spotted an antique obsidian sundial in a forgotten corner of a bookshop, and it stopped me cold. The stone is flawless glassy black with a lattice of gold filaments etched into a swirling spiraling pattern that echoes the fractal geometry I love to dissect; each filament glints like a tiny, living vein of mineral lore. Its gnomon points exactly toward the noon sun, and the brass base contains an engraved chronicle of the original finder's travels across the Arctic tundra, a story that feels as precious as the artifact itself. I keep it on my desk because every glance reminds me to count light precisely, and it forces me to look at ordinary moments through a meticulous lens. #obsidianbeauty 🌑