My father was fascinated with astronomy, so one of the many things he did was give me a big map of the constellations to hang on my wall. From when I was a little kid to even when I was a teenager, it stayed there, competing with the likes of Paul McCartney, Billy Idol, and The Who. I'll admit, I was a little intrigued by the names and shapes, including Scorpio, a very easy to recognize set of stars. It always vexed me that the constellation hung low in the summer sky, only appearing a few months far to my west, just peeking over the dark horizon, low enough that I never saw it whole.
As you can see, I hope, by the photo, I got to see the entirety of the constellation the other night on a trip to the south, when I stayed for a few days and nights at Oak Island.
It's an interesting place, even though it's still a beach, just as my childhood home on the Outer Banks is. But they are profoundly different. Oak Island has a wide, flat beach, warm salty soupy water, pushed straight on from the gulf. And the land hasn't been quite as tarnished by the giant McBeachHouses that blot out the setting sun and spew light onto the shore long after twilight has burned off.
Which is beneficial, in many ways. The beaches are a bit quieter, certainly, and definitely darker. Sea turtles have found the beach to be a preferred spot to nest and lay eggs. While the turtles abandon the nests after they bury the eggs, there are other parents that show up to sit on the nests, to check on a turtle boil in almost two months. Dark beaches certainly have their benefits.
Now, I get that people are afraid of the dark. And I don't mean afraid of monsters or ghosts. What so many are afraid of is a different figment of their imagination, a bogeyman that they are sure of to come and ring their doorbell or walk too close to their backyard, or perhaps just be out on the beach. I'd like to say, "I get it," but I don't. I love the dark and I'm not afraid of it, nor what's in it.
Sure, I worry about stepping in a hole. I got a bit scared when I walked out to an old cemetery once, but only because I started wondering if there were mountain lions around. But I'm not afraid of the dark, and I certainly don't need to leave the lights on to shine out onto the beach at night.
You can see in the photo here, it's a nice dark night. Sadly, there is always that one house, one of the big new ones near the pier, that leaves the lights on at their third floor porch and just pours light out onto the beach. I'm sure they think it's cool. Just so you know, it's not. No one likes you doing that. By the way, you can also see my kid adding her own little light show on the sandbar by the pier as she does ballet with her levitation wand.
There is a new push to increase the dark sky areas around the coast. The Hatteras National Seashore is hopefully going to become a dark sky place, and I hope that enough residents and homeowners will consider changing their lights to where they don't shine so bright out on to the shore. Even just changing the colors would help some. Let's admit it, if we just added some colored low intensity lights instead of bright white, at least we could have a cool tiki vibe going. I'll bring the rum if you do it.
I know, when I sign my ghost stories, I often say "keep the lights on," just to help keep the ghosts away. Well, okay, maybe if you are scared of ghosts, you can keep them on, but keep them low, too.
Don't be afraid of the dark. In fact, the darker it gets, the more you might see. Not only what's out there, but also a little bit of what's inside you, too.
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