Let There Be... Dark

Dear Scotland,

Your days were getting shorter and at first that was all I noticed. I can be so dense sometimes.

The sun kept falling asleep long before I was falling asleep. I just thought you and he had a falling out. I didn’t understand if your intent was to make me choose sides or if it was merely a fact about you I needed to know.

But you persistently offered me this endowment and after a few days I realized the gift.

Previously for me, the transition of day to night had always happened in my transition from work to play. I never took the time to notice the transformation because I was never still enough during my crossroads.

But you placed it before my blind eyes time and time again whispering, “Look!” I couldn’t see the grandeur you quietly placed on display.

Tonight, or rather today, I sat in the sterile library facing the bustling city center as the unseen sun set. I glanced up in time to notice the glow fade from the atmosphere. I lazily appreciated the sight and then I looked down to read some more.

I gazed up again to see the lethargic pale pinks fade into yawning deep purples. I looked down to read some more and as I continued, I felt you strongly urge me to stop and examine again. I put down my pen and closed my laptop. As I studied the sky once more, I observed those autumn violets fade into sapphire blues. And I caught my breath.

The onyx church steeples and raven trees silhouetted against the indigo horizon as the final rays of light abandoned this darkening sky for another brighter sky western bound.

I can count on two hands the number of times I have actively watched the sun set. I can count on a couple of fingers how many times I have watched an urban cityscape sunset. I can count on one finger how many times I have watched the shadowy autumn sky revealed against a castle backdrop from the top floor of a building the night before Halloween.

And I loved it.

Me