A Living Magazine - Day 237 - Homecoming - Charlotte: The Sharpness of Shadows

I no longer thought of it as sleeping in. My new time to wake up was 7:00 a.m. And, neither hell nor highwater was going to stop me from sleeping longer if I could. But you know, for just a moment I was concerned that my usual hyper-self-control didn't seem to be activated in the mornings here. The feeling soon passed.

As I packed up, I thought more about light. The sun's cycle rules everything for me. That the daylight hours are getting longer is a great thing. It warms up the earth as spring approaches. But it lessens my private time--the dark hours.

It amazed me how quickly the night fades into day between before-sunrise (about 6:00 a.m.) and after the sun is high enough to penetrate the trees (about 8:00 a.m.). Only two hours, but an amazing gradient of changes in light. It is almost supernatural how it continuously grows lighter - smoothly, without sharp changes - while all that was in black and white begins to liberate its true colors.

While beautiful and interesting, it also means that practical things must be addressed. The very invisible night tent becomes very visible as the sun gives it color. For me, because I need the information to understand more about my environment every time I camp in a new place, the changes in light and shadow must be used to be appreciated. Also, luminosity and its opposite remain real mysteries. Shadows, in particular, are not as they may seem. They are more.

When it is overcast there are no sharp shadows at night. There are only feathering aspects of whatever is around you. By "feathering" I mean that at night, in the woods, under an overcast sky, how can there even be definite forms if the light is so dispersed? There should be no shadows at all, if no direct light source is present. Yet there are, fuzzy as they may be. Still, an overcast sky that removes most of the shadows also reveals color, similar to the daytime.

But, now it was daytime. And another phenomenon was taking place as the shadows were growing sharper. The color of the tent was obvious to the houses behind me. I got going and made my way out of the woods.

It was the same old day as all the days in the last week. I just mixed each day up a bit. This time I went straight to another coffee place, Nova*s Bakery. I'd stopped in there a couple days before. I always follow the same pattern; one coffee in the morning, no matter where, and then if I have to go to another coffee place I'll get a hot chocolate (less caffeine). I'd done the latter at Nova*s on that day before, but not yet had their morning coffee. So I figured I could work for a couple hours. That turned into about six hours.

It is a good place, with inexpensive coffee ($1.73 for a small) that you pay for and then decide the kind by pouring your own. And their bread and pastries are excellent. I ordered the blueberry muffin, which was large. It would be nice if they could have heated it and added a pad of butter, but it was still good to pull apart and eat it plain. I like that they aren't a Starbucks clone. Nova*s focus is on their bakery. All day long I watched people come in and buy their baggettes. 

Wi-Fi was medium speed and reliable and they have AC outlets. They became my favorite coffee place at that point, at least for the last couple days I was in Charlotte. They also were very tolerant of my staying there to work.

I published my post and left as the sun moved toward the horizon. It was supposed to be colder, but I found it a bit warmer than the afternoon before. I don't know why, but I was really craving a beer. So I went to The Working Man's Friend and ordered a $3 Pabst, then nursed it while I got online for a while. I was really just trying to kill time. 

I liked the place. The bartenders are actually two Irish guys--red hair, accents -- the full meal deal.  So I felt like I was a bit closer to New England. A few very posh couples came in, wearing their nice clothes. One guy ordered a whiskey with water. He sat drinking the whisky and didn't touch his carafe of water. I mean, that's what I would have done, too, but I knew he was just trying to impress his girlfriend with being fancy by having the water there. Hard to explain. 

The other couple there seemed a bit stressed out. The guy was obviously flirting with the server, and his woman was not impressed. "This was supposed to be a special drink," she said, looking down at her wine. "Should we invite her over tomorrow night?" I'd forgotten that the next day was Valentine's. Goes to show how single I am I guess.

He said, "Baby! What are you talking about? I'm in a good mood and just wanted to share it!"

They said nothing for a long moment, and then she said, "How about just sharing it with me?" Being single was just fine, thank you. I didn't miss the suspicion and unrealized expectations of a weak relationship. 

The sky was still light even after 6:00 p.m. the last few days, and I'd had a hard time getting into the sleep spot earlier in the evenings. Tonight though, I was prepared to take a chance and go in before the sun was down. I left with that mission in mind.

As I approached the area where I would have to cross the road, I noticed that the sun was turning orange. Along with the theme of shadows, I tried to get a shot of one that implied a tree's presence without the tree actually being seen...  

Shadow of a tree cast against the wall of the warehouse near my sleep spot.

Magnolia leaves behind me.

As I stood there looking for other shots that would show the orange of the sun, a whole line of people dressed in funky pink and black clothes walked by. They had (apparently) been at the church for a Valentine's party. But, when a man dressed in black with little pink mayfly wings on his back drew near with some other friends, carrying a black plastic trash bag over his shoulder, I wondered about my church presumption. He stopped and asked me, "You want a soda or a couple beers?"

Well shit, I won't turn down beer! I answered in the affirmative for a brew. He dropped the bag on the ground and took out three Natural Lites. He reached in to grab more, and I (God knows why!) stopped him and said that I probably didn't have room for much more. I thanked him and the merry mayflower man and his friends went on their way back toward town.

Now I had three beers that I had no place to stow in the pack. So, looking around, I saw that right next to me was a magnolia tree, with a space under it. So, in typical bum-finding-a-way-to-drink-in-public mode, I snuck in through the tree's branches and found myself just above a culvert and small stream...

Bar stool with a view, such as it was.

What better way to wait for dark! I sat there with Saggy beside me and drank each of my beers. A few other folks walked by on the sidewalk about five feet from me, but due to light blindness, they were none the wiser to my presence.

Really feeling like I was playing the part of the quintessential street person--drinking in the shadows before going to sleep in the woods, I stepped out onto the now-darkened sidewalk and continued up the street past the church...

The New Hope Missionary Baptist Church seems to have poured the

Holy Spirit out upon the cold sidewalk.

There is a unoccupied rectory right next to the church. That is where I crossed the street, and walked through the woods to my new location. It was easy to find, because of the two logs I'd made into a walkway the night before.

For me three 12 oz. beers was nothing. I did drink them fast enough to have a mild buzz on and paced around outside the tent with inhibitions dulled, just thinking.

For a while it was overcast again and the shadows were soft-edged, but then a sliver of moon emerged from the parting clouds and the ground was suddenly filled with sharper shadows.

In every shadow is a place to hide. Whether it be large enough for a man to sleep in the woods unseen or just small enough for a broken bottle waiting to be stepped on, I've learned that shadows are places of respite. Nothing brings me a more secure feeling than being in and among the shadows.

My eyes - which can't see very well in the daytime - can perceive much more in the woods at night. I've learned to see the broken bottles by their absence. I know that anything darker than a tree is an animal or human. I've learned to appreciate the ghosts that reside along with me there at night, when everything is quiet and the moon gives just enough light to splatter purple glowing patches across the forest floor. I am with them in their secret world. But it isn't theirs. It is all mine. I have realized that when I own the place where I am I rule it. Yes, it is someone else's land; maybe the city, maybe some real estate company, but it is mine while I'm there. I will try to make more sense of this notion in future posts. But my ownership is adequate enough for me to understand, and is therefore adequate enough in general.

I was out of money again. I'd grown tired of begging. Still there was no other way to remind people that I was pretty much always in need of funding. On this night though, I could own a piece of my reality without begging, without pleading, without even saying a word. I surveyed my shadow kingdom and then turned in for another deep sleep.