They Sing When the Lights Go Out

I spent the summer in India. I brought a headlamp with me–a torch, as they say–and I was rarely without it.  It served as a comfort and guide in dark places. It guarded me against the noises and creatures of the night. It gave me hope to think that I wouldn’t step on a viper, pee on a flowerpot, or sprain my ankle in a rain-washed track along the dirt footpaths on which I had to walk.

There are many kinds of light and dark.

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