In the still of darkness

So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing”

light landscape sky sunset
Photo by Pixabay on

It was dark by 6 pm, but pitch black by 7 pm. At first I read a few pages of a book by flashlight.  When that got exhausting I played with the flashlight by creating different shapes in the shadows with my one free hand and voices to go along. I amused myself for a while. This power outage brought into sharp focus how dependent we are on electricity – being without tv, smartphones/tablets, and especially the Internet is hard.  As I relaxed in the dark I imagined what people did before the days of radio, tv, and Internet to entertain themselves.

After a while I caught myself smiling.  Why did I feel so happy though I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything?  I was brain exercising. I was reciting stories and songs I learned as a child; “What a wonderful world” by Louis Armstrong came to mind so I belted it out loud as if I were back in the 5th grade in my elementary school auditorium with my music teacher on the piano; then I was in my neighborhood park jumping rope, swinging on metal swings with my friends, eating 50 cent ice pops.  I thought of people I hadn’t seen in years, I wondered how they are?   I thought of some people I need to check up on, send cards to, or visit.  I made a mental list.  Finally, I remembered a few good things that I have been blessed with.  All these memories and thoughts brought me joy; that’s why I was smiling.

In the still of darkness I sat still long enough to remember the beauty of living.  In spite of the daily chaos that comes with life, if you pause long enough and disconnect from the news, social media, tv shows…you may come to realize the beautiful moments you’ve lived through, the memories you’ve created, each person who left a footprint in your life. I’m sure there are some great ones you could share.  Take time to do so.  There’s nothing like the human connection.

close up of wheat plant during sunset
Photo by Pixabay on



Summer rain

abstract art artistic autumn
Photo by Pixabay on

“Summer rain
Whispers me to sleep
And wakes me up again”

I hear the song in my head and can feel the beat. I whisper and dance in joy.  I open the front door and watch the storm.  Sky is menacing and water is pouring from the sky; It’s warm.  I LOVE a summer shower.  It’s soothing and rejuvenating.   A summer rain never lasts too long, it holds the promise that the sun will come out again.

The rain is wonderful!  It hydrates the plants, trees, flowers, and grass that the sun had scorched.  It revives nature’s beautiful creations.  I watch it come down- from the comfort of my home – makes me happy. I can’t remember the last time I ran in the rain, played in the rain, danced in the rain.  Do kids do that these days?  It kind of saddens me how children today don’t know how to enjoy their youth. I rarely see neighborhood kids riding bikes, playing basketball, jumping rope, having a group of  friends together and running, laughing, making up silly songs and dances.  What do kids nowadays do besides being on their phone and tablets?

I have some fond memories of my childhood.  I remember swinging so high on metal swings in the park while leaning way back that I felt I could touch the clouds.  I remember roller skating at the rolling rink and trying to turn and dance with the skates like the pros.  I remember teaching myself to swim at a friend’s pool.  I also have many scars from being outside and playing.  Yes I remember the broken finger, the torn skin, the stiches… but I remember them fondly.  Now when reminiscing with friends I have stories to share.  I wonder what kinds of stories children today will share when they get older?

I’m glad to have created memories.  I’m glad I can appreciate the rain and see the wisdom and love behind it’s existence.  The comfort of a good rain: ahh the feeling is so tangible.  It brings back memories of rain drops on a tin roof.  It’s soothing and it’s the best sleep you can experience.  You wake up with a smile.

leaves rain green hosta
Photo by Hilary Halliwell on