“The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”
— Robert Frost
I have nightlights in most of the outlets in my home.
My favorite is a tiny bulb shrouded by a large scallop shell, which casts a comforting, pink glow in my bathroom. Weeks before Daylight Savings begins in November, you’ll find me scurrying around my house, setting out rechargeable candles on nearly every surface and checking batteries. During the dark months of winter, nothing brings me more contentment than seeing displays of luminous holiday lights, twinkling in the frigid evening wind.
For as long as I can remember, I have had an aversion to darkness. Yes, nearly all children at one time or another have a fear of the dark, imagining monsters under their beds, but it rarely continues into adulthood. I still to this day see the shadows in my bedroom as foes and adversaries, at the ready to reach out and jolt me out of a peaceful slumber.