Evening Comeback

Tonight my sliver of A-Town could be called “Black Saturday.” The early darkness of late fall is seriously hampering my holiday spirits. In previous years, I can’t recall feeling quite so time-confused as I have lately. On at least half of the last dozen days, I have thought it must be close to 9 pm. Then, to my bewilderment, the clock reads 6:12. It’s not that I feel more physically fatigued than usual. It’s more psychological, like an internal timer that says, “Go to bed,” but then gets hoodwinked by reality. I posted my sentiments recently on Facebook:

Nov. 21, 5:00 pm: “I shall refrain from whining about the 5 o’clock darkness.”

Nov. 21, 7:04pm: “OK, not whining but 7 feels like 11. I’m just saying.”

To which my wise-acre brother-in-law replied: “Did you just move to the area?”

He’s right to tease me. I should be accustomed to the gloomy autumn eves by now, having lived in these parts nearly 35 years.

And as I wrote, the light broke through. A knock at the door. My dear dad, out for his second constitutional of the day. Out walking in weather—chilly, drizzly, did I mention dark?—which makes most folks recoil. Four weeks and four days after having his heart rewired. I’m gonna quit complaining now.

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“But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.”—2 Peter 2:9 (NIV)

Image: A walk in Sydney