The Temple of the Autumn Night

The brilliance of a sunny autumn day, with the leaves blazing the colors of fire, has faded into night. The excitement and commotion of the day are long gone; now, there is only stillness.

The coyotes were howling and barking and laughing their maniacal laughter. The moon was full and low, casting a silvery glow over the landscape. The tall trees reached towards the heavens, like columns in a temple holding up the bright night sky, lit with a million tiny lights. Their trunks, deeply scarred by the passage of time, glow a ghostly gray in the moonlight. The cool, crisp breeze rustled the leaves overhead, sounding like distant applause. The leaves crunched underfoot.

As my eyes settled into the darkness, colors began to reveal themselves. Distant blacks. Enveloping dark blues. Deep purples. Shimmering silvers. The kind of colors that contain subtle differences in shade.

This night commands a kind of reverence. An awareness that there is something bigger than you, more than you, exists in the world. Peace. Solitude. Calm. Silence.

This is the dwelling place of the Creator—the Temple of the Autumn Night.

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