Someone once told me not to be afraid of the dark. Dark, they said, was nothing more than the absence of photons.

So, I took a walk in the dark. And I found out that the dark is so much more than the absence of light.

The dark forces us to no longer look outward. It does not let us see beauty or terror. The dark does not let us feel the reassurance of the sun’s rays, to gaze at a pink sky slowly sinking over the horizon, or to be lost by the numerous magical wonders that surround us with each sunrise.

Without this sense of surrounding, without this sense of sight, I find myself searching for the light. I look up to the stars, the only form of true light that shines through the darkness. And I am forced to look up. I am forced to look beyond what I know into a world that has questions forever unanswered.


For once, I don’t try to explain. Because no one can explain the magic felt by looking up at the stars. Sure, science  tells us that they are burning ***** of gas millions of miles away that are cold, dark rocks by the time we see the light.

What the science can’t explain is why we are drawn to these rocks. For looking up at the stars somehow represents the vastness of the universe, the smallness of a single human, and the beauty found in a silent darkness.


And for just this moment, I have seen more in the darkness that I could ever see in the light.