The long light
Christine Tailer
By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist
We went for a walk the other evening. It had been raining all day, and was raining as we set out.
When we reached the creek valley road, the rain slowed, and then stopped, but drops still fell from the trees over our heads. I looked up, and as I watched, the sky turned from a cloud-washed gray into a brilliant blue. It happened so quickly. I was amazed.
I pushed the hood of my jacket back off my head, and kept on walking. The puppy dog splashed through puddles ahead of me. Greg walked along beside me, though we said not a word. The evening could not have been any more beautiful.
I knew that our solar-charged batteries were running low, and I couldn't help but wish that the sun had broken through the clouds several hours earlier. Then sunshine would have been able to boost our battery’s waning charge. I shook my head. Low batteries mean we need to conserve our energy, and use oil lamps, and not do laundry or other electric things. Granted, we could always decide to fire up the generator, but then again, perhaps we would decide not to. I was disappointed with the sun's timing, but then I looked up the road ahead of us.
The end-of-day shadows cast by the trees stood boldly against the wet pavement. Our own shadows, walking along ahead of us, looked absolutely undaunted. The decision of whether to fire up the generator did not phase them in the least. They were long and strong, and as I watched them walking up the road, it occurred to me that if the sun had shown earlier, our shadows would have been so different. We might have headed out for our walk sooner, and our shadows would not have been so long, or cast on a drier road, they might not have been so starkly strong.
It quickly occurred to me that the day was exactly as it was meant to be. The laundry could wait. I knew that lamplight would cast a welcoming glow about the cabin as I prepared dinner. We continued on our walk, thankful for the company of our strong shadows in the long evening light.
Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in Ohio south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.