Skip to main content

Let There Be Light

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.

 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Teacher Gifts

Today is the last day of school before the Winter Break. It’s a good time to remember the far-reaching nature of our public school system. You may not have children. You may have sent your children to independent schools. It matters not. You will be impacted one way or another. Yesterday I read a long thread on Facebook about several waves of illness in the schools right now. There’s influenza A and norovirus, I believe. And of course there’s COVID. Apparently in some individual schools the rate of illness is high enough for school admin to notify parents.  When I was little the acceptable holiday gift for a teacher was one of those lovely floral handkerchief squares. (I don’t know what it was for male teachers. They were rare in my elementary years.) These days the range of teacher gifts is wider and I have fond memories of Target gift cards which I have written about before. I think it’s safe to say that giving one’s teacher Influenza, norovirus, or COVID is not the ideal holiday...

They Can Wait

This is not a typical Saturday post. That’s because, in my community, it’s not a typical Saturday.  Oakland Mills High School, after years of deferred repair, needs massive renovation. It’s pretty simple: when you don’t fix a problem it gets bigger. The school system itself said the the OMHS school building was  "no longer conducive to learning" back in 2018.  2018 .  But Thursday the Boad of Education voted to push it out of the lineup of important projects which will be given the go-ahead to proceed soonest.  In my opinion it’s a terrible decision and sets a dangerous precedent. To explain, here’s the advocacy letter I sent in support of Oakland Mills High School. I was rather proud of it. I am writing to ask you to proceed with needed renovation at Oakland Mills High School in the most timely and comprehensive manner humanly possible. I have read the letter sent to you by the Oakland Mills Community Association and I am in complete agreement. You are extremel...

Columbia Chance Connection

  Last night, as my husband and I were about to sit down to dinner, our front door swung open and a cheery voice announced, “I’m ba—ack!”  We weren’t expecting anyone. Clearly the only people who’d walk right in to our house would be one of our offspring. I had my reading glasses on so I wasn’t seeing too clearly. It seemed too tall for our youngest, but we knew our eldest was at work. I took off my glasses to see a friendly but confused face scanning our living room. When her gaze landed on us we all had a sudden realization. We didn’t know eachother. “Oh I’m so sorry! I’m in the wrong house! My daughter just moved in and she needed hooks for the kitchen so I ran out to get them.” She waved the package. “All these houses look the same and I don’t know the neighborhood yet. I thought this was my daughter’s house.” We were all getting a bit giggly. “That’s okay. For a quick second we thought you were our daughter,” said my husband. I told her our names and said she should defin...