After Dark . . .

In today’s photo challenge, the phrase “After Dark” has implications that range from nifty to naughty. What kept running through my mind, however, was part of the chorus from a well-known old hymn . . . “For the darkness shall turn to the dawning . . .” (We’ve a Story to Tell to the Nations, H. Ernest Nichols, 1896). Since I didn’t arise at dawn with camera in hand, I pondered other possibilities.

The next part of the hymn verse says, “And the dawning to noonday bright . . .”) I noticed the usual “June gloom” that pervades San Diego County broke up earlier than usual today, promising noonday bright. Noonday bright does not bode well for photographers. Too much glare. Too much color distortion. Too many shadows. Too harsh.

I might have some trouble with this “After Dark” challenge, I thought.

Enter my longtime friend Lynn Hall. (Lynn with two “n’s,” hence always “Lynn Two;” I, of course, am “Lyn One.”) This has been our standing joke for the some 30 years we have known each other.

Lynn is my Earth Mother friend. She gardens with a passion. She meditates with all of creation as she weeds and digs and plants and harvests. She dines with gusto on the fruits and vegetables she grows and readily shares them with others. When I visited her this morning, she offered me fresh strawberries she plucked from her plants as we strolled by. She gave me kale and beets to take home. This generosity is not only part of her character; it is her spirit. It is her way of celebrating her Source and sharing it with others.

As we ambled about the garden, admiring the produce and enjoying the morning sun, unusual for early June, I noticed brilliant splashes of color along one bank. Here her flowers provided panoramic adornment. She told me a story about the multi-hued poppies in one area.

When her brother-in-law Dennis died two years ago, Lynn’s daughter gave poppies to everyone attending the service. Now those seeds have blossomed into a brilliant carpet of yellows, golds and pinks in Lynn’s garden.

“This is Dennis, scattered on the hillside,” she said.

After death, life.

After dark, light.