Light and Mystery

written Saturday, 3 February

This morning, leaving with reluctance for a rare Saturday at work, I found myself caught between the sparkling iridescence of Pheobe, nearly at the full, on my left, and the faint first blush of Aurora, heralding Apollos's rising, on my right. Unique beauties; both seductively enticing. Aurora is lovely, but, much as I enjoy sunlit days, often the full light of Apollos unnerves me with its intensity. Although light reveals, it seems to me it can conceal as well as does complete darkness -- it leaves no place for nuance, for interpretation. Heresy, this, I suppose. They say that the moon makes for madness, but I think she's the only sanity I know. For her light reveals, too, but leaves space for the mystery, the ambiguity, that are necessary in a world we are meant to love, despite its fallenness, as its Creator loves.