Sunset comes quickly. It is there, brilliant in the sky; then it is not, a bit like we humans in our splendor, then our legacy. We burn bright for a moment like a comet. Then Darkness.

Night is a good time. It is half of our lives. I loved traveling at night when I was younger. Less traffic. Fewer people. Not as hot in the summer. With a thermos of coffee as your companion, you could go far. Steve, MJ, Faye, Aaron, Jonathon and I went to Tennessee on several occassions at night. Mini vacations. We arrived in the morning and had the day to spend having holiday fun. A little tired, a little sleepy. Tennessee had Cracker Barrel. There were no Cracker Barrels further north in those days. Cracker Barrel had Tom Clark Gnomes. We were fans of his art. The hills of East Tennessee were compelling. Gatlinburg was a regular treat for the Brooks. A lovely, peaceful town with a rich history. Cades Cove in the Smokies sparked my imagination. We have a miniature Cades Cove Village from those halcyon days.

We introverts often do our best thinking at night. We reflect on what we have seen, heard, and felt. Time coalesces at night. Past is much closer than in the light. We see our youthful exuberance and our older understanding side by side. Time travel is simpler at night. No distractions in memory and purpose. Kids sleeping in the backseat of the car. Easy Listening music on the radio. Concerns for the present and hope for the future. The Gatlinburg Vacation that almost was not, but by family unity was saved. Driving home on snow/ice covered roads.

Today is the day we make the night memories of tomorrow. What seems mundane, routine, regular order will take on significance as it is recalled in the future. Precious memories of the past were normal life when they occurred. Grandpa Earl never getting the correct order at a restaurant. Swimming in the Park Vista indoor pool where the water was like a bath. Jonathon jumping in the Paducah Executive Inn without his water wings and swimming underwater the length of the pool, only to exit saying, ” I forgot my water wings. Or Aaron with blue lips and shivering, assuring his Mom and me that the water was not cold at a hotel indoor swimming pool in Daytona Beach, Florida in January.