The heat of the day is waning. A light breeze picks up in the late afternoon; its drowsy fingers shushing and weaving through the grasses, trees, and flowers. To the West, the sun begins its descent. It defiantly streaks and stains the blue of the sky with bright oranges and hues of pink as it gives way to the rising half-moon.
One can feel nature slow, sigh and release the energy of day into the quiet mystery of night. Birds make one last flight through the garden, snipping up gnats and other nighttime insects. They light on the bird baths for their last bath and sip of the evening before heading to their nests to cozy down. Safe and snug they await dawn to begin again their songs, flights and feeding.
As the moon rises higher in the darkening sky it is joined by planets and pinprick stars. Some are still quite faint as they wait their turn to burn bright in the night sky when the sun’s afterglow is finished.
As darkness deepens, night-dwellers emerge and begin rustling and creeping through the bushes and grasses, as their time to rise and go about their business has arrived. In the cover of darkness all may seem still and at rest, but it’s not. The business of nighttime is full, robust, and busy. Tiny garden mice gather and feast on the seeds the raucous birds have scattered in their feeding throughout the day. Their nests are deep underneath the stately ferns and spreading Catmint, giving them excellent cover from the neighborhood cats that hunt and prowl. The cats are part of the night hunters as they stealthily slip between the Lavender, Guara and Sage spying and waiting for an unsuspecting meal.
Fully dark now, the symphony of crickets begins in earnest. It starts with one lone, chirping buzz and is joined by others who’ve been waiting for nightfall to begin their serenade. The crickets are soon accompanied by myriad tree frogs that inhabit the nearby marshy, open space. It becomes a stage for their croaking and singing. The songs are repetitive and peaceful, allowing the mind to disengage and just be.
Sailing above in a carpet of stars, planets and zig zagging satellites, the half-moon is bright, cold, and austere. The simplicity of the light and the cold shine of the moonglow quiets and soothes, gentling away the worries and stress of the day. Deep and peaceful.
Nighttime brings with it a sense of mystery and supernatural portent. Sight cannot be relied upon in the dark. Other senses move to the forefront and must decipher the unseen sounds and goings-on of the night. Discernment is heightened – the soul is what sees and hears.
You are there in the nighttime rustle of the tall grasses as Your voice whispers in the breeze – rest and peace are near. You cause the stars to sing their cold melodies as they shine down, the puzzle pieces of their scattering giving direction to the traveler and hope for the lost. Your breath is in the rustling, swooping feathers, and haunting sound of the owl’s call, as it glides unseen through the dark, cool night. You are always near, the Maestro conducting and guiding all of creation in the symphony of life. There is nowhere I can go, where You are not.
Your masterpiece of creation in the still, yet busy nighttime is just as lovely, complex, and healing as in the light of day. There is deep healing, peace, and safety in the dark. It requires us to see and hear with our souls and follow Your whispers and songs, as deep calls to deep and You call us into Your marvelous Light.
Extravagant Hope 