Tag: darkness
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October 22, 2015
Twice on this last trip, I stood with strangers and looked out at the early morning sky. The first time was in the security line at the airport in Pittsburgh. Dawn was breaking and the man ahead of me in line said he had heard that three planets were visible in the early morning now.…
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December 4, 2012
In the mornings, after I am done writing, I like to go back upstairs with a cup of coffee and my journal and get back into bed and cogitate a little about what I just wrote. Now that the leaves are off the trees, I can see to the next street over. I can watch…
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January 12, 2012
My friend across the street is a writer. Like me, she gets up early. Like me, she turns on a light when she sits down to write. Sometimes, she beats me out of bed. Sometimes, I beat her. But in the darkness of early morning, we both get up and look for the light of…
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November 1, 2011
A few mornings ago, I got up early and the world was dark and magical and I looked out the upstairs window and saw the neighbor’s basketball backboard glowing white in the darkness and I thought: would you look at that moon? It’s so low to the ground. I’ve been laughing about this for a…
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September 28, 2011
I’ve had the closing lines of Michael Rosen’s Sad Book (“And candles. There must be candles.”) running through my head for a few days now, ever since I went out to buy candles for a friend’s birthday cake. “And candles,” I just thought to the dawn sky. “There must be candles.” “And candles,” I muttered…
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August 23, 2011
There is a wonderful essay by Anna Quindlen entitled “The Lightning Bugs are Back” in which she talks about childhood, parenthood, memories and fireflies (“those little flares in the darkness, a distillation of the kind of life we think we had, we wish we had, we want again.”). I thought about that essay as I…