Light in the Darkness

I am way behind on work and fighting the Monday fight--this weekend was SO not a good weekend to spring ahead and lose an hour of sleep--but I just have to post a quick little note to you. Yesterday I went to this town called Yelapa on the southernmost part of the bay, and you can only get there by boat. No cars, no roads, just the beach and the mountains and the hippies. We spent the day listening to live music and drinking up the sun and it was so beautiful and I was so thankful and blah blah blah. We stayed too late and took the boat back at twilight. I could write a whole post about it. But for now, I just have to say OMIGOSH.

There is this thing that happens in the water at night--I don't know if it only happens here or if this is an everwhere thing. Anyway, phosphorous in the water soaks up light during the day, and holds onto it until it is moved. So at night, as fish and rays and boats swim through the water, the movement stirs up the phosporus and makes it give off light. LIGHT! Light in the dark water! The wake created by our boat was lit up as if from a thousand glow sticks. We could look over the side of the boat and see fish moving, in stunning circles of glowing magical light.

So even though I'm feeling some serious Monday morning pain right now, I saw light in the darkness last night. Light from nowhere, glowing and sparkling. And you know what I keep thinking? It doesn't do that unless someone is there to move the water--life is what makes light.