Golden Hours and Dark Chocolates
It was never just about the beach or the book or the moonlight. It was about who I wished could share it.
After a long day that started early with meeting friends and volunteering to preach and a few meetings for this and that, we managed to do very little. My blood pressure was happy to have the down time.
I had a lovely evening. I decided to dust off my copy of Jaws and read a few chapters. I've always enjoyed the film, but I’ve loved Benchley’s original novel even more. The characters are richer, and so much energy is spent exploring their pasts and inner conflicts—the kinds of details the movie, for all its brilliance, simply doesn’t have time for.
Tonight, Ellen (Chief Brody’s wife) is throwing a dinner party. In the book, she’s described as a former socialite who turned her back on the upper crust to marry a blue-collar man and embrace how the rest of us live. But lately, she’s remembering what she once enjoyed about the ease and polish of her old life. So, she tries to recapture a little of it with this gathering.
Her husband is less than enthusiastic, but supportive. As husbands often are.
To set the mood, I fired up a YouTube video of Outer Banks beach footage—hours of ambient wind and waves playing in the background. The perfect companion for a novel about sharks and social tension.
Highly recommend.
It stormed here today. Now, as the sun sets, I’m outside savoring the freshly washed air, cleared of the burned jet fuel and diesel exhaust that always seem to linger between rains. We’re rewarded with an especially beautiful golden hour—the kind of light that makes even the most ordinary street look like a Maxfield Parrish painting.
I pause during my run to the store—for peanut butter and dark chocolate, per my wife’s request—to soak it in.
It’s the kind of evening I wish I could glide through. To silently slice through midheaven with only the rush of wind in my ears, chasing the sun to the horizon.
But tonight, it’s enough to lean against the hood of my car and dream of far-off places. Places and people who would understand the poetry of this moment, and share in its quiet, glowing glamour.
Back home, we slip in an episode of For All Mankind. It’s a revisionist history of the U.S. space program—what might’ve happened if the Soviet Union had reached the moon first. In tonight’s episode, NASA leans into sending a woman to the moon in the early ’70s, and the story explores the friction and breakthroughs that follow. Some of the social commentary is a bit on the nose, but the storytelling is top-tier. Visually stunning. Superb performances. Easily one of the best serialized dramas I’ve seen in the modern era.
Also recommend. It’s on AppleTV+.
It’s late now. After our show, we step out for a walk downtown in the final hour of the night. We’re both surprised at how alive it is—bars buzzing, vintage arcades flickering with light, couples strolling the sidewalks. There’s a rhythm to it we didn’t expect.
But we’re not here to join the party. Not tonight. We’re just stretching our legs and reliving old glories. And that’s enough for now.
I will say this: at the end of the day, that sunset made it a +10. And the dark chocolate was a welcome treat!
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Thank you for coming here and walking through the garden of my mind. No day is as brilliant in its moment as it is gilded in memory. Embrace your experience and relish gorgeous recollection.
Into every life a little light will shine. Thank you for being my luminance in whatever capacity you may. Shine on, you brilliant souls!
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