My outdoor soaks in the tub are done under evening skies. After saturating in hot water for an hour or more and slowly morphing into a jellyfish, I’m ready to flow into the house and sink into a deep night’s sleep. This nocturnal bathing has given me many opportunities, as I lie up to my chin in hot water, to view the night sky in its various degrees of darkness. Let me count the ways.
On long summer days I usually begin my tub sits during daylight and watch the darkness slowly creep in, as I marinate. In winter, however, I start after dark and watch the night sky grow ever blacker. As Guy Clark sings in his song “The Dark,”
In the Dark you can sometimes hear your own heart beat;
One way or another, we are all in the Dark.
There are many shades of darkness to the night sky. A full moon will brightly light up the heavens, illuminating every object around me. On clear, moonless nights the sky appears jet black, yet is liberally sprinkled with stars, meteors, and satellites. Guy Clark again:
Fireflies, sparks, lightning, stars,
Campfires, the moon, headlights on cars.
The Northern Lights and the Milky Way,
You can’t see that stuff in the day.
On nights when scattered clouds fly overhead, I like to watch those celestial lights play peek-a-boo between clouds. Darker yet, when high clouds fully cover the sky, all stars disappear, but I can see the city lights from the nearest town reflect from the cloud bottoms. It’s an eerie but beautiful glow.
When thick, low clouds close in, promising rain or snow, it’s the blackest of all. You can’t see your hand in front of your face (or behind). Yet blackness is relative, especially after your eyes adjust. Even on the darkest night the sky is not completely black, but appears a deep charcoal, while the blackest objects are the tree silhouettes, artistically painted across the sky. Clark again:
How dark is it? It’s too dark for goblins.
How dark is it? It’s so dark you can smell the moon.
How dark is it? It’s so dark the wind gets lost.
The Dark is not all goblin scary; it’s very inviting.
Monday, December 22, 2008
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