One of Those Nights

I love nights like this.  Quiet nights.  After questionable days.  Nights like this are when I find solace in the dark.  Nights like this, I sit in the lone Adirondack chair on the back porch and I look up at the sky.  Most nights at Holly Heights, I can look up at the sky and see the stars.  I love the nights when I see stars.  I see the constellations.  I can see the blur of the Milky Way.  I can see the dark space, in between.   I love the nights when I can see the stars.  But those nights are common.  The nights when the stars hide behind a blanket of clouds are rare here.  The nights that there is no moon, and I can put my face into the Bodega breeze and can look up at an open, hazy ceiling are the nights I’ve come to cherish. 

As much as I love the stars and the bright night sky, I love these nights because they are a relief.  They are a relief from having to look up and question what is out there; what will come next.  Cloudy nights make you realize that you don’t have to have a clear vision.   You don’t have to have a plan.  Cool evenings remind you that not everything is a hot issue.  These nights come to make sure you remember the value of clarity.  At the same time, they make sure you appreciate that, sometimes, life is ambiguous. 

Nights like this, I don’t have to worry about finding my place.  Nights like this, I don’t have to worry about solving the tomorrow’s problems.  Nights like this, I don’t have to worry about what’s next.  Nights like tonight, I only have to worry about what is mine:   My child.  My home.  My relationships.  My actions.  My life.  And on nights like this, when I am protected by a cloudy night sky and greeted by the welcoming Pacific wind, I am alright with everything that is mine.