Claiming the Night

In Dayspring, by Anthony Oliveira, the disciple whom Jesus loved introduces himself and tells his story.

In Brigands and Breadknives, by Travis Baldree, Fern will bet everything that Viv’s face is one she really knows. Customers bustle to and fro with drinks and nibbles. Fern contemplates the unfamiliar bitterness on the sides of her tongue.

Riding on Astrix’s back, Fern notes that the elf doesn’t come with any built-in cushions. It does beat stinging thorns and flesh-eating chickens. When Astrix abruptly stops and crouches, her unspoken request is obvious.

Astryx says that arcanists always forget about their vulnerability in the heat of battle and leans down to exent a hand to Chak after defeating him. He stares at her doubtfully. After accepting her assistance to climb out of the water, he replies, “My thanks, Oathmaiden.

Multiple corners up Bycross’s road and a dizzying series of turns into a cliff’s interior bring Fern, Astryx, and Zyll to the Oathmaiden’s favorite restaurant. Fern would not be surprised if Astryx’s favorite haunt turned out to be a wagon that sold dried jerky out of its back. Nothing can be farther than the truth.

Bradlee asks Fern if she just absconded in the night. Fern finds it weird to talk to sentient cutlery. Fern claims it was a accident, to which Bradles says it “seems like a pretty long-running accident.”

In a later scene, a pile of planks and pulled nails lay beside a door. The room smells pungently of goats. A brown-and-white-spotted nanny regards the group with disdain.

Last Sunday afternoon I left for Mueller Park and the Wasatch National Park to once again climb the trail leading to Elephant Rock about 1:30 pm. I changed into my hiking socks and shoes, grabbed my walking sticks and backpack, disconnected my keys from my purse, and tucked my purse safely out of sight. I then proceeded to take the familiar trail up the mountainside.

I passed the familiar table with an amazing heart rate of 85 beats per minute, and continued my climb. The ground was realtively dry, the path half-covered in leaves of varying shades of brown. I made it to teepee turn, where my heart rate was about 105 beats per minute. I found a log to sit on, grabbed a swig of water from my water bottle, and continued reading The Vanished Birds. The book had taken a turn where as a reader I felt disgusted and angry with what had happened to one of the characters. It got me thinking that there really is no such thing as a “happy ending” in real life. Our happiness has to happen in the now, not at the end, when it is more of a struggle from day to day. It seems that endings in reality are almost always sad.

That said, while the end of life can be a struggle, maybe there are a few happy endings, where one is surrounded by the ones they love or in a destination they choose. But is it truly happy for those left behind. And for those who are happy that their loved one is finally free from suffering, the loved one still had to suffer. The most I suppose that one can do is to try to live the best life they can while minimizing the suffering in the end.

My heart stayed at about 105 bpm, but I decided it was safe enough to move on. I soon found myself passing the first overlook, where I took a moment to breathe in the view in front of me before continuing on. By the time I got to the hairpin grotto, my heart rate was at 125 beats per minute. I sat on the log that had a little bit of moss left on it, grabbed some water, and read some more, wating for my pulse to return to normal.

Meanwhile, my watchband separated from the watch, making it difficult to take my pulse. I could not get the pin to stay put, and as I got ready to leave, a tiny piece of the pin fell into the underbrush. Knowing it was pointless to search for it, I let it drop. As I went to pull out my phone to take a picture, I noticed I must have left it back at the car. Then checking for my keys I realized they were also still with the car. I was already so far up the trail, I decided it would be better to proceed up the trail and back, and hope that everything would still be there when I got back.

Because it was starting to get chilly, I put on my jacket, buttoned the watch in my pocket, and set back out on the trail. It wasn’t long before I passed the crossroads and then the next overlook. I then continued past several turns until I could identify what I could use to remember how far I had traveled the next time I hiked this trail. The interminable trail seemed to go on and on until the foliage opened up to my left about halfway across the canyon. Looking out from the trail, I could see in the distance the Great Salt Lake and Antelope Island. I noted how dry everything seemed out in the distance. I grabbed my energy bar, a couple more drinks, and read a few more pages.

It would have been great if I had brought my phone to take a photo, but that will have to wait until my next journey up. Pulling out my watch, I noted that I had hiked 2.66 miles into the trail before turning around. I found out later that I have about 3/4 of a mile left to go to actually make it to Elephant Rock.

On the way back, it seemed like I got back to the rock promontory a lot faster than on the way up. I continued down and around the trail, just enjoying the walk back, noting the projections of rocks in the trail. To appreciate the downhill journey, you have to first make the uphill one.

Once I finally got back to my car, I was relieved to find my phone, my purse and my keys, as well as my car waiting for me. I no longer had to worry how I would get home if were missing when I got back. Once I breathed a sigh of relief, I was able to make the drive back home to arrive before 5:30 pm. It would have been more like 5 pm if I hadn’t taken a wrong turn, but that’s life. You just have to enjoy the journey while you find your way back.

Monday evening the ACLU of Utah bid farewell to Kilo and Rosemary who are stepping off the board after completing their term, and approved two more people to be added to the ballot for our members to approve as new member with three-year terms of their own. The staff gifted each of the departing members a book detailing the history of the ACLU as a memento, and in private I was gifted a hard bound copy of We Are Everywhere, by Matthew Riemer & Leighton Brown. I was told that the staff saw the book and thought of me, and that they wanted to gift their “fearless leader.” I was touched.

It seems like it wasn’t that long ago when we had a new staff and one of the board members asked at a retreat about their job and duties. The natural inquisitiveness of the board member wasn’t taken well, and the staff member felt that they were under inquisition by their “bosses.” It was a hard lesson.

The next few months we spent time finding ways to show that we appreciated the hard work of the staff. I even encouraged our board members to volunteer to help the staff, and led by example, because if I wasn’t willing to do it, I could never expect it of the other board members. We made it clear that outside of volunteering, and committee meetings, all communication between the staff had to go through the Executive Director, and showing up at board/staff events was crucial.

Most of the time it was just me and the former president that made it a point to show up and volunteer. I am so thankful that we have rebuilt a positive, trusting relationship for all involved. Relationships and trust are fragile and require a lot of work. It means being vulnerable and available. It means respecting the other person and being their ally when needed.

So many people get it wrong. They think that trust can be demanded and respect must be earned. For me, it is exactly the opposite. Trust must be earned, and everyone can demand respect until they willingly violate someone’s trust.

On Tuesday, I attended two veteran events. The first was the flag ceremony at the Utah Veteran’s Memorial and the other was the Veteran’s Dinner at the Utah Cultural Center. The first was a solemn moment as Brian Sheely talked about the need to be there for veterans, whether they served in combat or not. Many, especially since the wars of the last two decades, are returning back to a culture in which they find it difficult to adjust.

At the dinner, we enjoyed a time to share conversation as well as chicken, and listen to a band play various music. The keynote address was given by a black female avionics tech who worked on KC-135s and the B1B bombers in Texas. She talked about how she leaned into fitness, family, and faith to make it through her career.

National guard men and women are complaining about the unlawful orders they are being given. They are being asked to do things they didn’t sign up for--that go against their values. It is the legal and moral responsibility of any service member to refuse to comply with unlawful orders. Trump culled the people with a backbone from the upper eschelons, but courage runs deep, and starts sooner in one's career. It would be incredibly difficult for him to remove every courageous man and woman from the service if they all stand up and say, “enough is enough. What you are asking for is unlawful and goes against everything that this country stands for.”

People are leaving the justice department in droves, because they don’t believe that using the department for personal vendettas is justice. Everywhere you look, there are people refusing to give in, to cave in, to what they know is wrong.

The redistricting in Texas looks like it will backfire. While the Texas legislature tried to win five more house seats, it turns out that their calculations were based significantly on hispanic people that voted for Trump. Many of these people were staunch believers that immigrants needed to use the immigration system, and flawed as it was. What they didn’t expect was the racial profile that is now happening en masse across the country and in their neighborhoods, or the children having to watch their parents be arrested in front of their friends. The didn’t count on citizens being picked up, detained, and deported. Many, I’m sure, are rethinking their support.

California’s contingent redistricting passed, potentially flipping five more seats Democratic until Texas rolls their changes back. Utah now has a congressional seat that leans 17% blue. Democrats are already scrambling to run for that seat, including Ben McAdams, Kathleen Riebe, and Nate Blouin. Progressives in the Democratic Party want someone with a progressive track record to hold this seat, and not a moderate.

The Republicans in the Utah Legislature are not happy. The Utah Legislature has been fighting an independent redistricting commission since the people demanded one six years ago and earned it at the ballot via ballot initiative. The Utah legislature immediately went into special session to change the effect so that they could propose their own maps and to be the ones to approve the map, which they did. The case subsequently went to court.

The battle was fought by non-partisan organizations like Better Boundaries and Mormons for an Ethical Government. And they won. This year, the judge ruled that maps had to be drawn up by both sides that were not gerrymandered to unfavorably weigh heavier for any particular party. The plaintiffs provided their maps, and the Republican legislators presented their own. The legislators lost, because they tried to rig the system to allow gerrymandering. With almost 50% of the voters in the state not Republican, it made no sense for the Republicans to have all six seats in congress. Neither did it make sense to split up the major urban centers of Salt Lake City and West Valley City across more that two districts.

The new map now has most of the northern portion of Salt Lake County in one district, creating a district that favors Democrats of Republicans by 17%. The Republicans still will likely control the other three seats, but they’re not happy. For the Republicans, it’s total domination or nothing. They are planning to impeach the judge and run a referendum to take away the independent redistricting commission. Anyone that sees it, should decline to sign. No one has the right to demand that all other voices, especially the dissenting ones, are silenced.

According to the ACLU, face recognition is a dragnet surveillance technology whose expansion within law enforcment over the last 20 years has been marred by systematic invasions of privacy, inaccuracy, unreliable results, and racial disparities. The marriage of Face Recognition and the “Trump Terror” deportation drive is in the form of the new mobile application “Mobile Fortify,” which is being used by ICE and CBP. Very few law enforcement agencies have attempted to harvest biometric information during street stops. One court has already ruled that police officers are prohibited from taking people’s fingerprints at stops.

In a document from Homeland Security leaked by 404Media, officers “may use Mobile Fortify to collect information in identifiable form about individuals regardless of citizenship or immigration status. It is conceivable that a photo taken by an agent using the Mobile Fortify mobile application could be that of someone other than an alien, including US. citizens or lawful permanent residents [LPRs].”

It’s hard to get used to the shorter days now, especially since it’s two weeks to the day of three years since Danilynn passed away. It means I’m going through a seasonal loneliness episode, a composite of short days and grief. What helps, believe it or not, is lights…and chocolate, especially dark chocolate covered cordial cherries. Chocolate cordial cherries was one of the holiday traditions I enjoyed as a teenager. Biting into the sweet syrupy cheery filling surrounded by rivers of chocolate brings back sweet memories.

The other way to counteract the feelings is looking forward to my weekend hikes in the mountains, breathing the clean air, absorbing the rays, and getting good exercise out with nature. I am so looking forward to the moment. The other remedy is meeting up with a group of people, like an outdoor hiking group or roleplaying on Wednesdays, sipping a nice hot beverage.

It’s still getting hard to get used to the daylight shift. Yesterday, I would have gone hiking if it weren’t for the the two hour nap I took to clear my sinuses. Instead, I spent the bulk of yeterday reading Brigands and Breadknives. Later about 4:30 pm, I followed and- Instant Pot recipe to make Peruvian Chicken Bowls. While prepping the ingredients, I noticed that I had bought boneless, skinless chicken breasts instead of boneless, skinless chicken thighs. The result was delicious, including making a green sauce with japapenos, and very full-filling. About 7 pm, I dropped off the donations of clothes and books for the VOA shelter that I had amassed in a cooler box.

This morning was similar. While I got up early and continued my reading, I found a mild lower intestinal/groin pain sending me back to bed. I dreamed about a number of things, including people and machine gargoyles coming from the future and the nuclear holocaust of 1995. In my dream world, 1995 as a future event didn’t seem odd. The machine gargoyles would split open to reveal the human travelers inside, and a brilliant white dot on the horizon representing the explosions in the “future” bleeding through was clearly visible.

The next thing I knew was that I desperately craved sex, and even given the automated forms available I was unable to satisfy my urges, in a state of insatiable arousal, until Callie jumped on me and slowly woke me from my dilemma.

That gave me time to get prep myself for the Queer Connect event. We had a handful of people show up. We discussed the political situation and the upcoming holiday potluck. It felt good to connect. Once I returned home, I finished reading Brigands and Breadknives. And now it's dark once again. Is this the seasonal reminder that even when it gets dark, there is still time to get something accomplished?

Even in stories filled with wandering disciples, reluctant heroes, sentient cutlery, and hard-won battles, one truth echoes through every page and every step up the mountainside: life is not measured by tidy endings, but by the choices we make in the thick of uncertainty. We walk uphill so that the view means something. We rebuild trust because relationships matter. We speak out because silence is complicity. And when the days grow shorter and grief settles in like an early winter dusk, we counter it with connection, light, laughter, good books, shared meals, and the courage to keep showing up—whether for veterans finding their way home, communities resisting injustice, or friends who simply need us present. Let this be your reminder that the world changes when ordinary people take the next step, even when they’re tired, even when it’s dark. So take your step—join a community, show up for a cause, speak truth, build trust, hike the trail, make the call, kindle the light. Your presence is the beginning of someone else’s hope.