The End of Night On this pre-dawn November morning, not even the moon shines through the cloud-dense sky. Yet it’s not quite dark. Patches of the trail are lit by streetlamps, and even where it’s not, the ambient light makes puddles shimmer, and the path is, if not clear, at least visible. In the city, we never experience true dark. At least not when we’re outside. Some twenty-five years ago, in Port Townsend, I stared in wonder at a brilliant sky lit up with a carpet of stars, for I hadn’t seen such a thing since childhood. In Portland, where I lived, the skies had long been dimmed by the…
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Facing Our Shadows
A Seed Needs Darkness Though it is still January, the daffodils are sprouting. Buds are opening on the viburnum, the kale is thrusting forth new growth. It’s been weeks since the bird bath froze. What sort of winter is this? Obviously, we’re caught in the throes of a greenhouse effect, but no matter how warm the days, the pre-dawn darkness remains. I wake before sunrise to exercise the dog, relishing the silver glow of moonlight, the few stars that peek out from behind clouds, the hulking shadows of trees black against the steel sky. A stillness hangs over the morning. Darkness invites reflection, and reflection invites growth. For some people,…
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Winter Solstice and the Return of the Light
The Longest Night of the Year As I write this, around 5 pm on the Winter Solstice, the sky has been dark for about half an hour. Here in the Pacific Northwest, clouds obscure the stars and the moon.If I lived in the country, I would see blackness cover the land. Even in the most isolated areas, though, houses are blessed with the electricity that keeps my own home bright and my computer humming. No matter how early the sun sets, if I want to, I can work well into the night. I need not gather around a fire, drinking mulled cider, and listening to stories, though I might be…