Even in darkness...

Despite the beginnings of a headache, last night I walked through the woods in the dark. No flashlight, no streetlights, even the moon was low, yet the white gravel on the path seemed to gather all the available light. As I walked, the glow of the fireflies stood out a glowing green beacon, and the song of the crickets filled the air. In contrast to the rich greens and reddish browns of the day, at night, everything was defined in shades of grey.

There, in the hushed grey coolness, I felt a little better, a brief respite from the aching pain in my head, even though the heavy summer humidity still hung in the air. There, though my muscles ached from the walking, my head and my heart felt clear and calm. In darkness, we do not walk alone, and there we have less to distract us. In the light, we see the butterflies, the beetles, the flowers, the berries, the richness of leaf and bark. In the light, we are dazzled by the sun, but in the dark, there is little to see, except a bit of the path ahead. There, with little to distract us, we feel our connections, unless we allow the fear of the dark to become our distraction.