A Little Light for Lent

I really don’t like twilight. I’m not talking about the vampire series that made the Washington rain forest famous to teenagers and adults alike from Finland to Japan. Seriously, teens from places like Reykjavik are dragging their parents to middle of nowhere, Forks, WA, to swoon over Bella’s rusty truck. But I digress.  What I don’t like is the twilight time of day. Dusk. And it seems, particularly in the Northwest, large quantities of our day are spent in dusk. Sure, we just “sprung ahead”, but with our low-slung clouds, the incessant drip, drip, dripping and our spired evergreens, even with those extra hours of daylight, we are relentlessly wrapped in a state of gray. Until about July. Now I grew up here, so this doesn’t get to me like it does transplants from the south (cough, California). Instead, what bothers me about dusk is that seeing anything becomes near impossible. It’s too dark outside to not have the lights on inside, but it’s also too light outside for the lights inside to do much good. It’s as if an oppressive gloom is sitting over everything, never to be dispelled.  As many candles get lit and lights ablaze, there is no combating the pall that is dusk. Add to this that dusk is so half-hearted. Nighttime should come strong, like a poorly edited episode of 24 where Kiefer Sutherland...

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