Like an honor guard, the wind storm heralded the Big Dark’s arrival, trees bowed down in reverence, leaves scattered a red and orange carpet before it, and as the rain poured down in sheets, as the sun was pushed further away by the season’s progress, the lights flickered as if no longer able to find the source of their power. It was more overtime and more life lost to it today as I struggle to find meaning in what I’m doing and why I’m doing it.