The Evening and the Morning

"Watching the sun, watching it come, watching it come up over the rooftops...And it's going to be a day. There is really no way to say no to the morning... And it's going to be a day, there is really nothing left to say but come on morning."  Dan Fogelberg

As much as I enjoy "camping out" and  as many camping trips that I have been on,  I can't remember ever being the one to suggest that we go camping.  As a Boy Scout in Enterprise, Alabama I had no idea we would go camping as often as we did.  I mainly joined Boy Scouts because my best friends were in Troop 99 and they encouraged me to join.   Camp AlaFlo was just a few miles out of town and our scout master took full advantage of it. He not only took our troop there on many weekend camping excursions, but for week long trips in the summer. The highlight of those trips was playing an Indian game Capture the Flag in  the middle of the night. This was a game of stealth and skill played against a neighboring troop. The winner earned the flag hoisted at its camp ground and bragging rights for the duration of the camp. Running through the woods in the dark with only a flashlight at a full gallop was exhilarating to say the least.  I'm sure there were injuries, but I don't recall them.

Our scout master took us on several road trips as well. One of those was to the Shiloh Battlefield near Memphis, Tennessee. There was no Weather Channel in the late fall of 1964. The weather in the "wiregrass" was about all we got on the radio and television.  The temperature was in the 70s when we left Enterprise and in the 20s when we arrived at the park.  I wore all the clothes I took with me all weekend and survived to tell the tale. I was not entirely comfortable but I still remember enjoyable aspects of the two day, twenty-eight mile hike through the battlefield and surrounding forests.

Over the years friends have invited me to go camping to various places.  I'm always eager to go. One of those was an overnight trip to "The Pocket", a place at Pigeon Mountain, Georgia about twenty miles from where I live. We camped by  a creek and the next morning I felt like the gurgling of the mountain stream had washed my soul clean. The two night/three day backpacking experience with another friend was memorable on many different levels. One level was the well-meaning friend who the night before warned me to watch out for copperheads. "They're everywhere", he said. I didn't see any snakes but every step I took was an exercise in caution. The encounter with a tarantula in an outhouse made a lasting impression on me also. Thankfully the impression was only in my mind and nowhere else.

This morning I'm remembering one overnight camping experience in particular. I accompanied this friend to a place on Lookout Mountain, Georgia called "The Rock."  I already had a history with "The Rock" but  the most significant history was still ahead of me when on Tuesday, June 9, 1992 I spent the night there alone.  I would tell you about that night, but that would be "the story of my life."  Remind me to tell you that story sometime. "The Rock" lies right on the edge of Lookout Mountain and affords an incredible view of Chattanooga, Tennessee and distant valleys. It is surrounded by rock walls that offer protection and comfort from the elements. But it gets its name from a huge boulder that you can climb  on and sit in a natural chair with your legs dangling off the mountain. Dangerous?  Not really, if you're careful climbing up and down. But I don't recommend climbing up  when you're there alone at one o'clock in the morning in a fog as thick as pea soup.

My friend and I shared two significant experiences on that trip. One happened on Friday evening and the other on Saturday morning. On Friday evening while tending our fire, we both saw an apparition on a nearby  rock wall. I don't recall which one of us saw it first, but about forty feet from where we sat was the enormous  head of an American Indian warrior.  The features were distinct and the effect was stunning. He was facing away from us across the valley before us. His gaze  was solemn, but not threatening and severe.  It's not correct to call it an "apparition" since the light and the shadows created an actual shape on the rock. Are the presidents at Mt. Rushmore an apparition or are they really there? Aren't they created by nothing more than rock,  light and shadows? On the other hand it's not correct to say our chief was real either. I guess I'll call it a phenomenon that we both shared  Whatever it was, it was certainly memorable for both of us. We had never seen him before that evening and we've never seen him since. It was just one of those things that happens from time to time when you camp at "The Rock". Some consider the place to be sacred ground.

But it's what happened before dawn the  next morning that meant the most to me and I think to my camping buddy as well.  Since there is only room for one on the rock, we sat together on a ledge in the dark waiting on the sunrise.  With the ashes  of our evening fire behind us and the darkness of the valley before us, we sat silently together, and we waited.  With the memory of our Indian friend still fresh on our spirits, the illusion for both of us was that we weren't just waiting for an ordinary sunrise. We were anticipating something more dramatic.  We were not just waiting for the dawn of a new day; we were waiting together for the dawn of creation.  It must have been how God felt just before He said, "Let there be light." The anticipation of the light gave deep meaning to the darkness. Sitting in the darkness at "The Rock" with a friend is exponentially better than sitting there in the darkness alone.

A common myth of a sunrise if you've never seen one is that the first thing you see is the round edge of the sun emerging over the horizon.  The truth is that you are aware of the approaching light even before you even see it. Although you see nothing with your eyes, you sense it in your soul. It doesn't start with a ball of fire, but with a warm glow.

That morning the clouds over the distant horizon began to glow and a slither of light crawled across the distant hills. It was the feeling of something totally new;  It was a feeling of being born again. As the sun finally began to show  itself above the hills, my friend draped his arm around my shoulder and I draped mine around his. We  just sat arm in arm for the duration of the solar event. What was more profound, the drama of dawn of creation or the love I felt for my  friend? Thankfully, I didn't have to choose. Within hours of creating the first light, God created two people to enjoy it with Him. I would guess that God enjoyed the people more than He did the light.

A few years ago while in Enterprise, I drove out to Camp AlaFlo to see what I could see. At first the caretaker seemed somewhat  concerned about security  since campers were there and wasn't all that thrilled with my intrusion. After I told him of my history at the camp he not only changed his tune, but he loaded me in his Gator and took me on the grand tour. It was so good to see the lake where I earned the lifesaving and the mile swim merit badges. I was able to see actual sites where I had camped and slept in cabins as a boy. They were there about as I remembered them. If only I had known back then to pay attention. If only I had known how quickly those times would pass. But I was a kid. There was no way for me to know.

  Have you ever wondered why the first day of creation was "the evening and the morning" and not "the morning and the evening?"  Don't we normally think of a day starting in the morning and ending at night? I sure don't know, but maybe it was so Adam and Eve a few days later could experience the darkness before they experienced the light. I can see them sitting silently together arm in arm in complete darkness. All they had was each other and whatever lay ahead. Although they had no way of knowing for sure, they must have sensed that there was more to look forward to  than the dark. So they sat and they waited. Slowly and effortlessly there was a warm glow against the clouds in the distance.  Then a sliver of light slid across the horizon. The sky was catching on fire. They tingled with excitement as a circle of light appeared before them. That circle grew larger and larger. The garden grew brighter and brighter. And just like that their first day began.

These days "camping" usually involves a vehicle with bedrooms, a kitchen, a restroom and a flat-screen HDTV.  For me it still involves some woods,  a tent and a fire. It's a scout thing. And while those people in their camper are watching Good Morning America, I'm watching an evening and a morning. Either way, there's really nothing left to say but "come on morning".