The dark is the best time to see. The best time to see is in the dark, after the long light of day is finally turned off. Stars that have been there all day begin to manifest before eyes finally opened. The world becomes new, wavering in that last light of dusk, the magic that brings it alive.

On the trail, Ponderosa and Doug Fir sharpen their needles. The Aspen among them shiver and sway, their silvery trunks glowing against the darkened sky. Tiny points of light move in and out of long needles grouped in threes, shorter softer needles in neat rows on the branch, and through green-gold leaves.

Bird song has quieted. The rustle of night creatures rides on the scrub of cedar, willow, and meadow grasses. A few eyes might shine back at you in night greeting. The wuf and womp of moose, elk, and deer bedding down is heard in the stillness. One more flutter of wings above in a final nestling for the night.

In this dark, the eye can quiet with the mind, letting go the harsh barrage of day and allowing for sight so clear, so true, so connected that it’s possible to linger, to rest in it, to feed a body and soul that which will bring it back to bear the weight of the day.

Perhaps, if you dream there, you will find the place or space you were meant to be. But for now, only let it nourish you, hold you in its brilliance, dance you across the universe.