October 26: Darkness
Kristen Lindquist
"The night is black. Black as night." --Melissa Etheridge
Tonight when I locked the office door and walked up the path to my car, I was plunged for several long moments into total darkness. It's been a long time since I've had to leave the office in that kind of dark and I was a bit startled by its sudden presence all around me. The night sky was shrouded in clouds that let no light through. And my eyes were slow to adjust after shutting off the lights in the well-lit office. Although I knew I was on the path, I couldn't see a thing and actually put my hands out in front of me to feel my way. Then I remembered that if I remotely unlocked my car, its interior light would enable me to find it in the profoundly black depths of the parking lot. It was only 6:20. In a few weeks we'll set the clocks back, and it will be this dark at 5:20. No wonder I came home tonight ready to just curl up with my cat and go to sleep.
Night's a starless cloak
lit only by the car light,
my personal moon.
Tonight when I locked the office door and walked up the path to my car, I was plunged for several long moments into total darkness. It's been a long time since I've had to leave the office in that kind of dark and I was a bit startled by its sudden presence all around me. The night sky was shrouded in clouds that let no light through. And my eyes were slow to adjust after shutting off the lights in the well-lit office. Although I knew I was on the path, I couldn't see a thing and actually put my hands out in front of me to feel my way. Then I remembered that if I remotely unlocked my car, its interior light would enable me to find it in the profoundly black depths of the parking lot. It was only 6:20. In a few weeks we'll set the clocks back, and it will be this dark at 5:20. No wonder I came home tonight ready to just curl up with my cat and go to sleep.
Night's a starless cloak
lit only by the car light,
my personal moon.