One adventursome day, my son and I packed our backpacks and decided that we’d hike the 40 miles around Mt. Hood. We pitched our tents the first night at a beautiful place, Paradise Park, on the shin of the mountain,
When night fell it was even more astounding. Absolute blackness except for the stars.
We hiked up an adjoining hill and from the peak, we could see the lights of small towns in the distance. The problem came when we tried to hike back down. We’d bushwhacked our way to the top; there weren’t any trails, and as we worked our way down, the camp wasn’t where we thought it should be.
Fortunately we’d left one small alpine candle lit and hanging at camp. That tiny pinprick of light (which seemed like a beacon to us) guided us back to our tents.
Since then, I always look for lights, and I always try to leave a light burning.