They began at 6 a.m., when I was awakened by the cawing of seagulls, the quacking of wild ducks. My work ended at 6 p.m., when the sun sank behind the jagged skyline of fir and spruce on the cove's western shore. For entertainment, I had the night sky, spangled with heaven's full array of jewels. Occasionally, a pining loon would pierce the stillness with its haunting cry. Otherwise, the quiet was complete, the silence so unearthly, so profound, you could hear the thrumming of the cosmos, the music of the spheres.
Darkness enhances solitude, canceling the distractions of sight, concentrating the mind wonderfully.
Back home, a framed photograph reminds me of my holy land in Maine.