I haven't always liked the dark that nightfall brings.  I haven't always found the secret gift in the night.  That changed for me when I realized that darkness held magic.  It held a solitude, a whisper that can't be found in the day light hours.  When I am out in the darkness I am not distracted by all the visuals.  I am not looking at every detail.  Every piece of creation.  Every car.  Every house.  Every person.  I only experience one thing - the dark.  It's been a full moon for the past few days.  The kind of full moon that rests just barely out of arm's reach.  What a great gift to the darkness the moon is.  In wonder I have watched the moon these past few mornings in its resplendence hang low in the pre-dawn hours.  It moves, seemingly fading, into the western horizon only to appear half way around the world to illuminate someone else's dark sky.  Because of cloud cover, weather conditions, phases of the moon, we don't always see it fully.  It's still there.  The God of Creation knew His stuff.  If you've ever come inside after being in brilliant sun you are struck by momentary blindness.  You can't see things sharply in the darkened room because the contrast of light to dark was too fast.  God created graduated dark to light.  Graduated light to dark.  He created this rising and setting system.  This fading of light to dark.  I love to run in the darkness.  I always have.  The summer I graduated from high school I went out running one late July night after the sun had set.  Living on a farm, I ran down the road flanked on both sides by corn.  There was no noise, except the rustle of corn as the night occasionally took a breath.  There was no light, except from the windows of the few houses on that stretch of road and the summer moon full and bright.  It was a magical run that night for so many reasons.  A run that all these years later I have never forgotten.  Last night I was out in the darkness to run.  I felt that feeling of unabashed ecstasy and unboundaried freedom to have the world to myself.  The air was still and cold.  I wasn't distracted by houses, dogs, people, cars, nature, or even my own stride.  All I felt was silence and darkness.  It was freeing.  It was restorative.  It was once again the magical gift of the dark.  I had to force myself to return inside - inside walls and to the light. This morning as I watched the moon make its descent, I softly said to myself, "The moon, the moon.  The magical moonI will meet you again, oh dear dear Mr. Moon."  

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