Friday Classic: First Light
You left the house at 4 a.m. By 5 you were hiking through the frozen darkness. 6 found you prepared, your body and your gear positioned just so. The blackness is absolute, the limestone at your back cold and sharp. A favorable wind brings imagined smells to your nose, half-heard noises to your ears and tears to your eyes.
From the infinite list of possible places and times, a successful predator must choose the right one. Prey need only to be anywhere else; to not choose the wrong one. This uneven burden may account for the difference in our intellects. You’ve applied yours, reasoned it through, listened to your gut, and you’ve placed your bet. Now you wait.
The darkness melts into splotches of more and less. Gray forms grow edges and outlines. The world grows bigger inch by inch, expanding outward, picking up speed with the pale light. Dawn deals the cards slowly.
Win, lose or draw, I will always love first light.