Along the Hudson and in places like Maine, historic lighthouses remain. Some are used now as museums, some as residences or bed-and-breakfasts or even gatherings for writers’ readings. And a few still function as, well, lighthouses.
I have a few lighthouses in my life. My wife, the most steady. My mother, the one who goes the farthest back and who may be the wisest. My daughter, the brightest. A friend, sometimes. Even the willows out back who line the pond.
These sources steer me clear.
Pardon the cliches. Sometimes, our cultural tropes just fit.
Today, I had some phone calls -with clients and with trainees – that reminded me of being a lighthouse. I, for them, in some sense. I wasn’t knowingly playing that role, but in retrospect, that’s what it was. They needed a few solid, grounded words that offered hope, direction, and clarity. What an honor to be that.
It’s getting late. I can hear my wife singing lullabies upstairs. I can hear her light.
What about you? Any encounters with lighthouses today? Share your day’s three highlights – and let us know where you’re writing from.
See you in the woods,
The Three Highlights Guy