Night. Dark, the world shrinks as the Sun makes its way to the next shift. Like a photographers developing bath, the sky scape slowly reveals twinkling stars. Houses almost vanish, their presence barely maintained by television flicker and breaks in the curtains. Country lanes disappear altogether, tossed into diminishing scrutiny as vehicles stab the road with their full beams. City skylines lose their tailored architectural edges, replaced by loose fit soft commercial lighting. Industrial illumination cradles a city, almost sparkling like glass that catches the sunlight.
A moment. Stop. These evening sparkles sustained by global grids are powering the illusion. Actually the night scene dramatically changes without artificial intervention. The world would slow down. People would slow down. Life would slow down. A few fires dotted around, embers so light that they believe they can fly to heaven in a glowing burst.
This is real, to experience the seasons because we engage in the change of smell, light, soil, weather, crops, flowers, tides. All the things that a city needs to be reminded of. All the things our lives need to be reminded of.
Night. Dark, the world shrinks. Shrinks to nothing except a flame, a light, a word that grew, a word that entered the world through a unique door. A word that became flesh. The big bang at the beginning, spiritually repeated when He entered into the world and marked every evening as darkness advances and the stars explode.
Night, a time for me to remember that Hope set foot into this world when the contrast was at its greatest. A night sky full of stars. It’s easier to see the stars against blackness. Darkness is full of hope that I can see. Night time, brings me hope.
