When Everything Feels Dark
by Melanie Dale | October 2022
Last night I nearly killed my neighbor. I assure you it was purely from stupidity and not malicious intent.
Our town is filled with golf cart paths that snake through the woods around us and we have a loop that we like to walk to shake off the day. She and I have walked many nights all summer and into the fall.
Last night’s walk started like last week’s walk and the week’s before, but halfway into it, deep in the woods, we noticed that it was getting darker sooner. Soon we’d run out of light, trip and fall, ram into a tree, or get splattered across a golf cart flying around a corner. My friend suggested we turn around and go back. I should’ve agreed, but instead I thought if we walked a little farther on the golf cart path, we could turn into the neighborhood up ahead and there would be streetlights to guide us, so that’s what we did.
There were no streetlights.
As the sun slipped lower on the horizon, we hustled through that neighborhood and went to turn back onto the path to go home, but by then it was pitch black in the trees. Surely Pennywise lurked within, waiting for us. Shelob had for sure spun a web to trap us. As our situation grew more dire, I thought, “And this is how people get yanked into the Upside Down.”
We had no phones. We are GenXers. We don’t always carry our phones and we have no fancy watches. We stride out into the woods like the kids from Stranger Things in the days of yore. And like those kids, we encountered danger.
“Let’s keep going through the neighborhood out to the main road,” I said.
“There will be streetlights to guide us there,” I said.
There were no streetlights.
At this point I marveled at our town’s lack of lighting. I’d never noticed, because usually when it’s this dark I’m safely ensconced at home in my jammies helping with homework or having my midlife crisis. Maybe Dumbledore had come by and stolen the lights with his Deluminator.
There was a section on the path that dipped down into inky blackness. The path I’d walked fearlessly all summer long became a terrifying abyss. My feet fumbled. What if there was a raccoon, or a spider, or a flesh-eating zombie. What if there was a golf cart that came up behind us and slammed into our backs, knocked us over, and drove over us without even noticing, and small children discovered our mangled bodies the next morning on the way to the bus stop, and everyone in town judged us for being so stupid to walk in the dark wearing black leggings.
We picked up the pace, aided by headlights from the occasional passing car and porch lights that twinkled through the trees. Up ahead, we turned into another, bigger neighborhood. Surely this one would have better lighting. It was fancier. Maybe it would have that fancy landscape lighting.
It did not. But our favorite house in that neighborhood did have an impressive array of Halloween decorations to distract me momentarily from my spiral into despair. Glowing purple ghouls and friendly bubbling cauldrons burbled and whoooed at us.
We passed the fun house and plunged back into darkness with Freddy Kreuger waiting for us in a monster truck. This would be how it would end. Two middle-aged moms with no flashlights squashed like bugs on the road.
“This is why I said we should turn around and go back,” my friend said, only once, which was nice of her.
“I’m sorry I’ve put us in mortal danger,” I said. “I really thought there’d be more lights.”
“It got dark so fast,” my friend said.
It really did. Fall snuck up on us and we were trying not to trip on a tree root and fall on our faces.
Here in Georgia the weather is still in the 90s, and when you’re in a flop sweat you don’t think about things like the autumn equinox. But even though the sun is hot, it sets earlier this time of year and we are plunged into darkness whether we’re prepared or not.
With the exception of scrambling through the dark trying not to get hit by a car or a bat or a werewolf, the changing seasons bring me hope. All of nature seems to say to us, “If this stage of life is challenging, persevere, because seasons change.”
I find this with parenting. I have a senior, a freshman, and a seventh grader this year, and I find my hands gripping the wheel to steer us in the right direction without anybody falling out of the vehicle. We have some very challenging circumstances right now and I feel lost in the dark woods most days, searching desperately for a streetlight in the waning sun.
Life with teens, like getting stuck in the dark, is scary at times. But you know what my favorite thing about the darkness is? It makes the light shine so much brighter.
Those Halloween decorations my friend and I passed on the street were vivid and captivating. I’ve passed them in the daylight many times, but in the dark they sprang out as welcome beacons of whimsy and fun. We were drawn to the hope they offered, hope to light our way and hope of candy-filled celebrations to come.
This season of parenting feels dark for me. The stakes are high, the world is hard, but the darkness makes the light shine that much brighter. So this October, my favorite month, the month of possibility and crisper temperatures, and yes, darker nights, I’m searching for the light, like glowing pumpkins to light our path and wise friends to keep us company along the way.
What are your streetlights in the darkness right now? A teacher who sees the sparkle in your kid, a neighbor who brings a meal when you’re sick, or an encouraging book that keeps you company during a midnight feeding? Seek out the streetlights.
Happy October. Happy dark days and things that glow. Oh, and eventually my friend and I did make it home, agreeing to walk earlier until the seasons change and the days lengthen once more.