The Light Show

The moonless night beyond the picture window contrasts with the candles that wash a warm glow on the orange rough-cut pine walls inside the A-frame cabin in a place without a name.

flightA flock of Canadian geese flews over the wetland before dusk, honking their way south before winter comes to the Upper Midwest, while inside the cabin walls the Toronto Blue Jays had flown south to Minneapolis over the radio to play a ballgame with the Twins. Unlike the Canadian geese, the Blue Jays are going nowhere; the Minnesota Twins are preparing for a long flight to the World Series.

votive-candlesThere is something strange about being alone in a remote wilderness cabin without a remote or internet, but some things stay close. Like the radio I bring to listen to the Twins games, and my canine companion Barclay who doesn’t care about the Twins or the radio but does care about candlelight. Barclay had headed for his kennel for the night an hour after the Twins had broken the sacred silence—until the sound of a match drew him back to the sofa to watch the candlelight flicker against the walls.

Sometimes I wish I were a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel instead of a lone silly goose who needs a radio to stay sane in an otherwise silent night in a warm-lit cabin in a place without a name.

d6dbdcca-1865-4dbf-b1dc-9cfda368e47d.1By the seventh inning stretch, I’m tired of the Twins game, blow out all the candles, see Barclay to his kennel, and head up the ladder to the loft in the darkness. Only then do I notice the light show beyond the cabin walls: the Northern Lights dancing across the sky, a natural light show no World Series can match. Through the loft window I watch the light that knows nothing of matches, candles, or our whereabouts off the human map.

Sometimes, when awe reduces me to lightening bug, it feels good to be human.

 

11 thoughts on “The Light Show

  1. Yes, the ingredients are there for serenity, depending, of course, on what you bring with you. I am lucky in that I find escape easily. As long as I am able to recharge my “Nook”… uh oh, no electricity. Tough on my arthritic hands, but with a good novel or other escapist book (Austen, Dickens, Tolkien) I can go anywhere, become anything.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Solitude is either a recipe for insanity or for sanity amid social madness. In the wake of all the natural disasters, I’ve been looking again at nature and at Tillich’s epigram about nature and humankind’s shared destiny both in their glory and in their tragedy. Last night it was all nature’s glory.

      Liked by 1 person

      • I think it’s a recipe for sanity. I spend a great deal of time in solitude, when not at work. I don’t have television/cable, so there is no interruption there. This afternoon, I will be joined by two kittens who will share my solitude, just as Barclay shares yours. So, it will be me with Esther and Estelle (gotta love those names they come with), and just maybe a little Tillich – oh and that book by someone I used to know, who I understand is a terrific writer. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s