The night is always full of wonders. There’s a promise in the dark, a temptation for our eyes, the sensation of being able to see what lies beneath the shadows. The feeling that if you just blink, suddenly things will appear that weren’t there before. Like a pair of friendly greyhounds, politely inquiring what brought you to the beach at this hour.
Perhaps your mind runs through all the mundane excuses — couldn’t sleep, heard sounds, remembered you forgot something there during the day — but at night none of that matters. You can set the excuses aside and just tell them the truth: the moon called you. There are sights to see, truths to reveal, a journey to be had.
At night things are more meaningful. Small lit rocks become ancient artifacts, the sound of waves a symphony, sculptures begin to breathe. They wander, explore, show you things you would never notice during the dull daylight hours. They draw your gaze into the details that matter.
The night is full of truths, ancient truths buried deep within. It takes strength to see them, strength and the ability to breathe in the peace in the darkness. The courage to blink.