Driving At Night

The ladies here meet every week for volleyball at the church. I like (in all little letters) volleyball, but I don't love it. It reminds me of all those activities and tournaments you can probably read about in the journals of my youth. I'm sure I'm the only non-volleyball enthusiast who knows what it means to be "second hit," or who has a solid under-hand serve. Every time I see a ball fly toward me I hear Brother Moon's voice telling me to cushion the hit, slow it down, and stay in my half moon formation.

So I've been spending my "volleyball nights" doing other things, like shopping the JC Penny's sales. But Matt talked me into it this week, and as I drove to the church I realized why I don't like to drive at night. Like any other place, it's dark here, but unlike other places, there aren't very many street lights, even on major roads.

At one point I was on a section of road that had been recently repaved with only the middle line repainted. I watched the yellow line to make sure I was staying on the road. No big deal, right . . . until a couple of cars come your way and you have to stare right into their head lights because there is no where else to look to keep yourself on the road.

Oh Upstate New York. I don't know why you have to keep it so dark at night; perhaps so we can always see the beautiful stars.