Coming Home

the only town on Spitsbergen, the largest island in the archipelago, population 1,500 people and (it was said) the same number of polar bears. Outside the museum was a boulder the size of a dining room table that was unremarkable, a seat for visitors, until one looked closely at the uneven surface and realized it was imbedded with fossils of tropical plant leaves. It seems that some 380 million years ago, Svalbard had been located on the equator.

Karl had previously pointed out there was about 2,000 feet of mountain above them pushing down on the tunnel. Andy and Becky felt the kinetic force gripping them in the deep silence, felt it all around them, knew that, unlikely as it was, they could be suddenly crushed to death like a bunch of ants.

“Okay,” Karl had said quietly, using his practiced tunnel tour guide voice. “As quiet as it is, and I think you all can feel it, there’s a way to make it even more intense. First let’s spread out a bit, get some distance from each other so you won’t hear each other breathing. Then I’m going to ask you to turn off your headlights, all your lights, if you will, and we’ll experience what real silence, real darkness, feels like. Good? All right, let’s turn off the lights. If it’s too much,” Karl said as the lights went out one by one, “just say and we’ll light back up. We’ll try to stay dark for a whole minute.”

It seems that some 380 million years ago, Svalbard had been located on the equator.

In one of the smaller tunnels they had passed that afternoon, they had seen stacks of three-foot oak logs that had been split and arranged to support the tunnel for the worker’s safety. What they realized was that the stack of logs that had been maybe four feet high when installed, had been reduced to less than three feet by the weight those oak logs were trying to hold at bay. The logs had been compressed like sticks of butter, cracked and crushed under the pressure.

No one said anything. Breathing was hushed. There was no coughing or throat clearing. A minute that seemed like five passed. The darkness had created an almost weightless situation. Andy had felt suspended, like gravity no longer existed. Becky said she sensed no up and no down, yet their balance wasn’t affected. It was limbo. They all sensed the colossal weight of the mountain above them.

Most always there is ambient light. Even when you are blindfolded there is a faint hint of light. Darkness in our world has come to mean lights everywhere. In deep country or at sea, there are at least the stars, often the moon - trillions of stars from trillions of galaxies emitting a “cosmic fog” that might