It was approximately one hour before sunrise when I arrived in the park. Although it was quite dark as I began my walk, I noticed as I approached the southern part of the walking path around Stow Lake that I could see more clearly than I normally do at this hour, in this location, during this time of the year.
It became obvious to me, suddenly, that the moon was visible clearly. It wouldn't be correct to say that it shone brightly, but it did illuminate the area well. The quality reminded me of the dullness of my poor quality flashlight bulb in the darkness.
I took the picture above using my phone, and although the camera does not generally manage low light very well, on this occasion it captured the sky the way I saw it.
I realized that it was both dark and light at that moment, which got me thinking about polarities, and how ready I often am to see people, situations and things as either good or bad. I don't mean that in the sense of good and evil, but still categorize my world in ways that blind me to the beauty of the grey areas, of the unknown. It is apparent to me that some categorization is important for protection, but these things are too-often overreaching in me. They also blind me to the subtle and minute, where I am able to best sense freedom.
It was sublime the way I could see certain things sufficiently there off the walking path, the old rustic bridge, for example, while being keenly aware that it was just too early to be able to see anything clearly. That bridge looked like it was being represented as a memory in a film.
As I finish this blog entry, I am reminded of how important it is to have regular experiences of beauty and mystery in my life. It is these these things sustain and motivate me to continue on in a world that I often find so painful and uncaring.
