Friday, November 27, 2009
This weekend just gone was another epic "first" of my life. After many trips to Weymouth, I'd never yet managed to see the lighthouse lit up after dark - we were always on the wrong side of the bay, or just plain in the wrong place. I've read Anne's House of Dreams; I've been to Montauk Point; I've been up Portland Bill each time I've visited The Drummer's parents, but in my twenty-three years, I've never seen a lighthouse lit up after dark.
After a little persuasion this weekend, The Drummer ventured out with me to the top of Portland Bill and we were greeted with the most amazing sight - in the pitch black, eight beams of light, rotating round and round, each one lighting up the hazards and shining far out to sea, warning the ships of the danger. The bill was so stormy that we couldn't even get out the car, but the sheer majesty of the lighthouse; the elegance of the beams of light; the safety is was bringing to the people out at sea - it was one of the most moving, humbling experiences I've ever had.
No matter how small or insignificant you're feeling, there's always something bigger than you out there to show you the way.