This is typically the time of year that I start stressing about the change of the season and the feeling of impending darkness. And I write about it. On this date in 2008:
Cursing the darkness. Note to self: buy candles tomorrow.
And that is, of course, related in my mind to one of the best Peanuts strips of all time.
I've been thinking a lot about light and darkness lately. Kicked off perhaps by the time change, the change in seasons, even the announcement of the cancellation of this year's Symphony of Lights. Human beings are truly attuned to the light; we lean towards it. (Plants, too, but that's another blog post.) Loss of light can bring about physiological and emotional changes in us.
Last night I was driving around in the Clarksville/Highland area after dark, taking my daughter to a party. Wow, it was dark out there. It was, as my mother used to say, like driving around on the inside of a pillow case. "What do these people have against quality street lights?" I thought to myself.
There's a tradeoff, of course. Where I live in Columbia it is well lit, on the main streets, anyway. But when we look up at the sky we can seldom see the stars. They are obscured by light pollution. I'm guessing that out where Blogger AnnieRie lives they get better views. Interesting. It's right there in the title of her blog: AnnieRie Unplugged . What happens when you pull out the plug on unnecessary artificial illumination?
You can see another kind of light show, I guess.
As for me, I love my lights: sunlight, long daylit afternoons into early evening. Candle light. Christmas lights. And, most definitely: street lights. When it's just me and my GPS in unknown territory, any light along the way improves my journey. Whether I'm wandering in Clarksville or Baltimore City, any shining beacon is cause for rejoicing.
Maybe someday I'll learn how to navigate by the stars. But probably not while I'm driving.