I’ve always loved the raw honesty expressed by Oscar Wilde. So many quotes from him are among my favorites.
When I came across this one (again) recently, it struck me in a fresh, relevant way that brought new meaning.
Lately, Marc and I have been taking our daily walk at night, when the heat of the day has relented and the pressing needs of work-world concerns are subdued. And the lunar phase of summer solstice recently afforded us several midnight walks brilliantly lit by the moon.
I’ve long preferred walking at dusk–the different way the light fills the trees and lengthens shadows; the feel of the day winding down as the world prepares for the shift from daylight to nighttime. But now I think I’ve been converted.
The world is different at night. You can see this plainly reflected in nature, in all the nocturnal beings that emerge to skitter, slink and swoop about when the sun has taken leave from that particular patch of earth.
These are the hours of wonder and enchantment. The poet’s realm of delight. In the dark, when the objective minds retreat to slumber, it is the dreamers who awaken to the magical possibilities of the night: the wisdom in the silence, the mystery in the darkness, the inspiration that is only accessible when the rest of the world is asleep.
Yes, once again, Mr. Wilde got it right.