Tag: night

Posted in Life, Travel

The darkest darkness

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by David Gabrić on Unsplash

For our autumn getaway, see some color, enjoy some cooler weather trip we found a remote cabin on a hillside in western North Carolina. To get there, we had to drive to the end of a twisty mile-long gravel road, where there was no one else in sight.

Each night I made sure we were back from hiking or small town exploring by dark. The access road was difficult enough in daylight. No way I was going to tackle it at night.

But each evening before bed, I did have to take the dog for one last walk. On one occasion I switched off my flashlight just to see how dark it was. It was dark. It was the darkest darkness I’ve ever experienced. Cloudy skies hid the moon and stars. No far off light from a nearby town reached this area, because there was no nearby town. I couldn’t see the road I was standing on. I couldn’t see the trees around us. I couldn’t see the cabin. It was around the bend. I couldn’t see the white dog at the end of a leash. I couldn’t see anything.

I remember thinking, “If my flashlight quits, I’m not sure how I’ll find my way back.” On subsequent walks, I made sure I had my phone in my pocket for a backup flashlight. Maybe my eyes would have adjusted. Maybe I’d be able to see a little bit. Maybe not.

I remember asking a group of middle school students, “What is the darkest hour of the night?” It was one of the few times they said, “That’s a good question.” It is a good question. Poetic wisdom says it’s always darkest before the dawn. And how do you measure darkness, anyway?

Anyway, the darkness was impressive. Not eerie, not scary, just complete. Where else is it really dark? A cave. A closet. Inside a refrigerator with the door closed. When the power goes out at night. When you shut your eyes at night?

Posted in Moments of grace

It’s not very dark at night

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Meet Gada on Unsplash

Yesterday, I noticed the dark, the quiet, and the solitude of my predawn morning walk. Today, I noticed the lights.

  • The night sky is filled with lights: the moon, stars, a few planets, and the red and green of an airplane far overhead.
  • Street lights extend from utility poles light up some of the intersections as well as random stretches of road in the neighborhood.
  • I’m surprised at how many homes keep the lights on each side of the garage or atop a front walk lamppost lit all night long. They are bright, illuminating the driveway and the cars parked there. Security lights shine into every corners of backyards.
  • You’ll also see a lit up doorbell on most homes. A tiny little light just to the side of the front door is on all the time, but you’ll only notice it at night.
  • Those who support law enforcement display a blue light on the front of the house.
  • Solar-powered landscape lights are still on, lining driveways and front walkways. Sometimes they shine lights up onto trees and the side of houses, creating interesting shadows.
  • Sometimes I’ll see a single red light on the side of a house, near an electric meter. It must alert someone that something is working correctly. Or not. Who knows?
  • Just above the trees I can see the tall lights above the soccer and baseball fields. The action begins early on tournament weekends.
  • I carry my flashlight when it’s dark. Some walkers and bikers wear flashing red or green lights so passing cars don’t miss them.
  • I can see tiny blue or green alarm lights flashing inside parked cars. they are armed and ready.
  • Today, the headlights of a car delivering newspapers (two people on my block still get a paper delivered) roared past me before pulling sharply into my neighbor’s driveway just long enough to fling the paper somewhere in the yard. Just as quickly, his taillights disappeared around the corner.
  • Lights are on inside homes, too. Others are up at this very early hour, too. The flicker of TV screens peeks through the front window curtains.
  • Some neighbors leave their Halloween inflatables inflated and lit all night long. Strings of orange lights frame doors and lay across shrubs.
  • And appropriately, lights shine on the American flag, either from the base or the top of flagpoles.

It’s not very dark at night around here. And I’m sure we’re just a few days away from the first Christmas lights.

Posted in Moments of grace

A walk in the dark

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Linda Xu on Unsplash

Technically, it was still dark. The sun wouldn’t officially rise for another hour. But this was the full moon’s moment as it illuminated my early morning walk with my dog.

About half way around the block, with another half mile to go, I realized what a blessing and privilege it is to be able to walk in the dark with no one else around and feel completely safe. It’s quiet. It’s peaceful.

I’ve been in cities in Haiti where every home was surrounded by a concrete walls topped with razor wire or pieces of broken glass. I would not be out walking during the day, much less at night. I’ve lived in the inner city, where the night echoed with the noise of arguments, speeding cars, and gunshots. The bitter thirty degrees below zero cold of a midwest winter cut any time I spent outside to less than a minute. One hundred mile an hour hurricane winds made me tell the dog, “You’re gonna have to hold it.”

But this morning’s air is motionless. Shorts and a t-shirt were perfect. No cars are out on the road. No one else is walking their dog. Owls hoot to each other in the distance before other birds begin their morning song. A motion light turns on as we walked by. The only sounds are my footsteps, the clicking of tiny toenails on the street, and the faint sound of a single engine airplane somewhere overhead.

To no one in particular I said out loud, “I’m going to write about this moment.”

Posted in Ministry

Advent midweek worship

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Tomorrow is the first of our midweek Advent worship services. They are part of our worship tradition in my denomination (Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod) and my congregation (Shepherd of the Coast, Palm Coast, FL). But they are not a part of most people’s lives. In other words, few show up.

I believe that if you didn’t grow up with this tradition, it wouldn’t even occur to you to show up at a church for a Wednesday night worship service during Advent, Lent or any other time of the year. Even if it’s heavily promoted, the idea is a hard one to sell to busy people who figure they get enough religious input on Sunday mornings.

But I like it. I like night services. Things look and sound different to me. Rather than being at the beginning of the day, it’s the end, before bed, and our thoughts are on the day past, rather than  the day or week ahead.

This year, I’m going to try and be less formal and more conversational with those who are there, most of whom will be the choir and the youth group, who are there every Wednesday anyway. I want to hear from people, not just talk at them. We don’t do much of this, but it’s worth a try. I’ll let you know how it goes!